


Real Enough to Get Me Through

by marriedzukka



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Dad Zuko, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Happy Ending, M/M, Mental Health Stuff, Past minor character death, Realistic depictions of grief, Slow Burn, background bakoda, background kataang, background yueki, but ill give you plenty of domestic fluff to make up for it?, but zuko's gotta go Thru It first, canon typical abuse because ozai, chronic pain sokka, fade to black sexual experiences, no beta we die like jet, social worker Sokka, some angst because look at the material, sorry Iroh i love you buddy, supportive sister Azula, zuko is a good dad. and im always gonna be a sappy bitch about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marriedzukka/pseuds/marriedzukka
Summary: A month after Iroh passes, Zuko reaches his breaking point. As he navigates the path through grief, he meets a kindred soul, and begins to heal in more ways than one.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 193
Kudos: 268





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from "evermore" by Taylor Swift. I basically listened to it on repeat while writing this so blame her

Life is...too long, and sometimes too painful. But I imagine I have made it too far.

I imagine, somewhere around some corner, the best part is still coming.

– Hanif Abdurraqib

★

“Mr. Sozin, I am so sorry for your loss.”

The woman is speaking to him but her voice sounds far away, despite sitting right across from where Zuko sits in her poorly lit office. He vaguely registers that she’s handing him a piece of paper, with the words “ _Grief Support_ ” and “ _You Don’t Have To Do This Alone_ ” printed at the top, but other than that, he’s barely paying attention.

“We found some grief support groups that might interest you,” she says, “if you feel you or your daughter could use some extra support during this difficult time.” 

“Do I...have to?” Zuko asks. He hasn’t had to deal with loss in a long, long time - and honestly he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing or how to handle it. He was a child when his mother passed, and his father, well - that one didn’t matter so much. But now he was an adult with a child of his own, and this was new territory. Azula wasn't much help, either. She tried, but in the process of sorting through everything Iroh left behind, they'd been getting into more fights than usual. And at this point in his life, he really didn't have many friends. Unless he counted Mai - who also happened to be the surrogate mother of his child. But besides them...he really had no one to work through this with except for this lady, here and now. But unfortunately for Zuko, it's been a month already and the social worker has fulfilled her end of the bargain by meeting with him for follow-up appointments after the funeral. Other than that - Zuko hasn’t done much to help the process of grieving along. 

He sure wishes he could ask Iroh what to do right about now.

The woman's voice brings his attention back to the present. “No, no-” she replies, smiling sympathetically at him. “Only join a group if you want to. Many of our clients have found them helpful in the past. Especially those that didn’t have a larger support system. You can look over the sheet I gave you and decide if any of those might suit you - some are just for women, or certain age ranges - there are even some for children. There’s something there for everyone, should you or your daughter need it.” 

Zuko nods. “Is that all?” 

“Yes, I believe so. Is there anything else you need right now?” 

He ponders that for a moment. Need? No, he doesn’t necessarily _need_ anything. He and Izumi were taken care of between his job at the law firm and the money Iroh had left them. They had a decent apartment. They had Azula, and Mai, who they visited occasionally, and they had each other. That was all they needed. 

If he was being honest with himself, though- he was not doing well. For the past month he'd felt numb, just trying his best to keep a strong face for Izumi and take it a day at a time. But right now he’d give anything to rewind the clock and leave this stupid office - to drive over to his Uncle’s house and sit together for tea in the garden like they’d always done. To laugh together, maybe play some pai-sho, talk about anything and everything under the sun. 

But that was never going to happen again. 

He thanks the woman and leaves the office, taking a deep breath of the brisk air as he steps outside, squinting under the bright winter sun. It's a short walk to his car and then he's enveloped in blissful silence as he shuts the door. He pulls down the visor and takes a quick look at himself in the small mirror, sighing at the bags under his eyes - deep and _painfully_ obvious. His hair is a bit messy too, so he takes a moment to take out the top knot and comb his fingers through it, before tying it all back up again. 

He panics for a moment and checks his watch - _2:45 pm_ \- and thanks whatever Spirits are listening that he hasn’t made himself late to pick up Izumi from school. The last thing she needs right now is inconsistency. 

A few minutes later, he’s pulling into the parking lot at the front of the school, and heads inside to sign Izumi out. In the gym, he smiles when he sees Izumi waiting with her teacher, holding her hand. But Izumi, his precious young daughter and easily the biggest source of love and light in his life, did not return the smile as usual.

Her teacher - Ms. Lee, a lovely young woman with bright eyes and a long braid cascading down her back, speaks up first. 

“Today was a bit of a rough one, Mr. Sozin. We had to take a lot of breaks. I just wanted to let you know.” 

Zuko turns to look at Izumi and kneels down in front of her, raising a hand to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s okay, sweetie. I’m not angry with you. Daddy had a hard day today, too.” 

Izumi wraps her arms around his neck, her long black hair soft against his cheek, and he holds her tight. He takes that moment to look back up at Ms. Lee. 

“Has this been happening a lot?” he asks, as he absentmindedly rubs a hand across Izumi’s back.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a daily thing,” Ms. Lee answers. “Although it seems to be happening more frequently now than when she first came back to school. But I do my best to keep an eye on her throughout the day, and if I notice she’s starting to get overwhelmed, we take breaks. Right, Izumi?” 

Izumi stands back and nods at her, and her little voice squeaks out, “I got to play with playdoh today.” 

“Wow,” Zuko says with a smile. “Lucky girl.” 

Izumi smiles back, and then something like remembrance flashes across her face. “Oh wait!” she says quickly. “Ms. Lee, can I show Daddy my picture?” 

Ms. Lee smiles sweetly at his daughter and then unzips her backpack, pulling out a drawing. Izumi beams as she hands it over to Zuko. 

He looks it over, and isn’t sure whether he should smile or cry. Or both. 

It’s a portrait of their family - scribbled and disproportionate (she is only 5, after all) - but sweet all the same. In the center is Zuko, his head is huge and his scar is prominent but he’s smiling with Izumi next to him. Azula is there too, and Zuko can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth when he sees the expression that Izumi drew for her - shocked and yelling because their pet turtle has bit her finger. 

His eyes scan the page for the other member of their family, but he is nowhere to be found. Zuko tries not to think anything of it, and files that away for a later discussion. But for now, he just wants to help Izumi feel better.

“It’s beautiful, honey,” he says, offering his daughter a sincere smile. “We can hang it up on your wall when we get home, if you want.” 

Izumi nods and smiles, taking it back from him and sliding it into her backpack - a bright blue sequined nightmare with Sailor Moon right on the front. Sure, it wasn’t what he would have picked, but he wasn’t a 5 year old girl, either. So when they were picking out her school supplies, he let her pick out the one she wanted. It was almost impossible to say no to her when she was looking at him with those big brown puppy dog eyes and the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. He would do anything for this girl. (He’s pretty sure if she asked for the moon, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to lasso it down).

Ms. Lee smiles at them both as Zuko picks up Izumi in his arms and she wraps herself around him. “Mr. Sozin,” she starts. “I just wanted to let you know that we have resources here at the school, if you think Izumi might need them.” 

“Like what?” he asks. 

“Well, we have a great team of counselors here. They could just help provide some extra support for her, if I’m unable to do it for any reason. I can put in a referral for her, if you want.” 

He thinks about it for a moment, and almost says no - _they’d be fine_ \- but his daughter is clinging to him harder than usual, and the news of her struggling at school had hit him like a freight train. He was struggling, but that didn't mean Izumi needed to struggle, too. 

“Okay,” he says. “That would be great, Ms. Lee. Thank you.” 

★

The ride home is calm. Zuko asks Izumi how her day went - and is surprised to hear that it was good despite what Ms. Lee said. He asks why, and Izumi notes, “I got to play with playdoh a lot today, when I felt bad.” 

His stomach drops, and he tries to sound neutral and casual despite feeling sick at the thought of his daughter feeling that way at school when he couldn’t help her. He looks at her in the rear view mirror. 

“Do you...feel that way at school a lot, honey?” 

Izumi answers genuinely. “Not a lot. Just...sometimes.” 

“Did something happen?” 

Izumi shakes her head, and looks out the window. 

He knows what happened. She lost her Papa Iroh - who was practically her grandfather and favorite person in the world. (He can relate). The worst thing as a parent is knowing that your child is in pain and knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. But for better or worse, they were in this together.

“I know,” he says finally. “I miss him too.” 

★

They pick up dinner on the way home, because he can’t be bothered to cook tonight. It’s been a long day and he just doesn’t have the energy. It's Friday, so they eat it in front of the TV after Izumi picks a movie - Frozen 2 ( _again, for the 3rd week in a row_ ) - and afterwards he draws her a bubble bath. He lets her play for a few minutes, smiling when he overhears her practicing her “waterbending” as she called it (even if that meant the bathroom would be a mess and he’d have to clean it up later. Whatever, it was cute). 

He helps her get dry and gives her pajamas to put on. "And don't forget Izzy," he says, nodding towards the small aquarium in the corner.

Izumi lights up and skips over to her turtle's tank, adding food pellets into its bowl, and planting a quick kiss to the turtle’s shell before snuggling into bed. 

Zuko holds up the drawing from earlier near an open spot on her wall. “What about here?” he asks.

“Sure, Daddy.”

He grabs some tape from Izumi’s small art desk and gently places the drawing on the wall - now surrounded by other drawings and paintings that Izumi has done. 

“Looks nice,” he notes. “But Izumi, why didn’t you put Papa Iroh in this picture?” 

Izumi’s face falls and she looks away from Zuko. “Well, he’s gone. And you said he isn’t coming back.” 

Her eyes begin to fill with tears, and Zuko curses himself for being the one who put them there. 

He quickly goes to her bedside and sits down, pulling his daughter into an embrace. He gently runs a thumb over the back of her head in a soothing gesture, and tries his best to calm her, placing errant kisses on the top of her head. “Shh, it’s okay duckling. I’m sorry.” 

After a minute, Izumi calms down again, and Zuko sits her back to look at her. “Listen to me very carefully, Izumi,” he starts. 

Izumi sniffles and nods, so he continues. 

“Your Papa Iroh loved you so much. More than anyone else in the world. Just because he isn’t here with us in person, doesn’t mean that he’s gone. He’s always going to be with us in some way, even if we can’t see him anymore.” 

“Like Elsa’s mommy?” 

He smiles. “Sure, like that. Papa Iroh will always be a part of our family. We have to do our part to make sure that never changes, okay? We can still honor his memory.”

“Okay, Daddy.” 

He leans forward, placing a final kiss on her forehead. “Love you, baby. Goodnight.”

“G’night. Love you too, Daddy.” 

He goes back downstairs, and thinks about maybe getting some wine and settling in with Netflix, but somehow he ends up cleaning the kitchen until he's sweating and the floor is spotless enough to eat off of. After that he moves on to the living room, and has a split second idea to rearrange the entire thing, but then thinks better of it. He plops down on the couch, his former energy now replaced with bone-aching exhaustion. His mind goes back over the day but he keeps getting stuck on Izumi’s drawing - at the idea of Iroh not being in their family portrait. 

And for the first time since Iroh’s death, he lets himself cry. 

It comes up so abruptly, the weight of it shocks him as the sobs rack through his chest - he tries to stop them but they just keep coming - a month of pent up feelings and sadness just come flowing out of him and he’s helpless to stop it. 

But at some point, his sobs slow, and he feels a _little_ better. Not much, but he does feel like at least some weight has been lifted from his chest. Not that it makes much difference. Iroh is still gone. The weight in his chest is replaced with something feeling a lot more hollow. 

Zuko thought he’d been doing good up to this point, trying to make it through this on his own, but now he’s not so sure.

If Iroh were here right now, Zuko knows exactly what he’d say: _Don’t be so hard on yourself, Nephew. A little help from others can be a great blessing._

So, before he can talk himself out of it, he finds the flyer for the grief support groups that the social worker gave him, and sends an RSVP to the first one on the list. 

★

Sokka’s having the day from hell. 

Of course, being a social worker isn’t exactly a walk in the park on any given day, but still. Who knew there was so much fucking paperwork involved? And that sometimes people who were hurting could be real jerks?

(He hadn’t, when he first started. But he learned VERY quickly). 

As far as social work goes - Sokka favors the macro side of things. Bigger picture stuff like policy reform, community development, and organizational planning are really his bread and butter, because he likes being able to see the results of his work. 

Aang, his good friend from school and now boyfriend to his little sister, was the one who’d gotten him the job at the Republic City Community Center after he graduated with his Masters degree. It was a good job, and he was grateful for it, but he could do without the mountains of paperwork and long hours. His position was arguably one of if not the most important there, since most of their funding is state granted. Because of that, it’s his job to make sure all the I’s are dotted and the T’s crossed so they can keep doing the work they’re doing. 

The blessing of being able to work with all of his closest friends is not lost on Sokka. He knew that most people entering social work are not so lucky - having to pay their dues at low paying jobs that asked too much of them without giving much in return. But this job wasn’t like that. Not all the time, at least.

Aang was the Director of Social Programs, and everyone else was on staff for support, community engagement, and teaching various classes to community members free of charge. Suki taught a self defense class and LGBT youth support group, and Katara led yoga classes for all ages and water aerobics for the elderly when she wasn’t at her nursing job. Jet ran the youth sports programs, and although Sokka wouldn’t call him a friend, per se, he respected the guy’s work ethic. And of course there was Toph: their in-house disability advocate and, to Sokka’s initial surprise, renowned pottery class teacher and art therapist. 

It’s on this day in particular that Sokka is really feeling it - the infamous burnout that comes with the title of social worker. He's been working on these grant proposals all day and his head is starting to hurt from trying to decipher all of the legal jargon involved. Usually he's at the top of his game going through all this stuff, and can typically figure it out on his own, but today is just...different. He’s up to his ears in paperwork and the sun is setting and he’s getting hungry - _wait, when was the last time I ate again?_

_Right. At breakfast when Suki told me that she’s moving out._

It hadn’t necessarily been a surprise - he knew they’d move apart eventually after living together for years- but still, he wasn’t prepared to have to deal with that today on top of everything else. He needed to finish these grant proposals and send them off before the end of the month. If the Center wasn't awarded at least 2 of those, they’d have to cut some programs out of their schedule, which was was the _last_ thing he wanted to do. 

So when Suki set down her mug in the sink after breakfast and gave him _that look_ \- the one that said _I’m really sorry but we have to have a hard conversation and trust me I don’t want to do this just as much as you-_ he steeled himself for the worst.

“Sokka,” she started. “I need to tell you something. And it’s not easy for me to say, and I’m really sorry in advance and-”

“Suki,” he said, cutting her off with a smile as he picked up the mug and squeezed some dish soap into it. “Just rip the band-aid off. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” 

She nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m moving out.” 

“Oh,” he said, trying to process. He tried to sound casual as he started rinsing out the mug. “Where are you going?”

A smile spread across her face like warm butter on toast. “Yue asked me to move in, and...I said yes.”

“Suki, that’s great!” He set the mug down and pulled her into a hug, feeling her laugh into his shoulder.

“Thank you, I’m really happy. We both are.”

He pulled back to look at her, and they both had tears in their eyes. “God, look at us,” he said. “I’m excited for you, Suki. Seriously, I am. You deserve this.”

Suki furrowed her brow. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here all by yourself?”

“Oh, yeah,” is what he replies, even if he doesn't necessarily believe that. “I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll get a cat or something.” 

“You couldn’t even keep our aloe plant alive, Sokka-”

“Hey, that was ONE time-”

Her laughter filled the kitchen, and it hit him then, that - damn. He really was going to miss this. 

Sokka hadn't lived on his own in years. First he lived with Aang at school, and then he and Suki started dating and eventually moved in together, only to realize they were better as friends. They ended up continuing to live together for the next couple of years. In retrospect, he should have seen this all coming from the moment he introduced Suki to his ex-girlfriend Yue. 

So, Suki would be moving out - where did that leave him? Just...alone. He hadn't really dated anyone since Suki, except for the occasional hookup. Well, there was Haru. Sokka thinks absentmindedly of texting him. _He was nice enough. Maybe there could still be something there..._

His growling stomach is the only thing that brings him back to the present. He sighs and removes his glasses, rubbing the bridge between his eyes. Then he begins searching his desk for some scrap of food that past-Sokka no doubt hid away for this exact situation.

A knock on the door gets his attention. “Come in,” he says, continuing to curse his past self for making this so difficult. _Where the hell is it-_

Aang enters his office, smiling wide and holding two bags of take-out. “I got dinner, you in?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Sokka answers, getting up quickly and taking one of the bags from him. “You’re amazing, Aang, you know that right?”

Aang smiles and shrugs as they sit down and get settled. “I try. Plus, this isn’t completely innocent. I...need a favor.”

Sokka’s got a mouth full of lo mein already but manages to say, “ _Hmm_?”

“Well, here’s the thing. I need someone to help lead the grief support group on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” 

Sokka groans. “Come on, Aang, you know I have a lot to do with these grants-”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t really need the help, Sokka. You know that. Katara was going to take this round but her schedule at the hospital changed, so I need someone to fill in. Believe me, I would’ve asked someone else because I know you’re busy, but everyone else already had classes to teach during that time.”

Sokka sits back in his chair and pouts. “It’s not fair, you just brought food to try and win me over.”

Aang smiles. “Is it working?”

“Maybe. Tell me more and we’ll see.”

“Look, it’s an easy job, okay? That’s my group, so I basically lead the whole thing anyway. I just need someone for backup. And to make sure everything is set up on time.”

Sokka sighs. “Fine, but you owe me.”

Aang smiles wide and stuffs a dumpling into his mouth. 

★

Tuesday night rolls around and Sokka gets to work setting up for the group. He places the chairs in a circle in one corner of their gym, and a table with some fruit and a water dispenser in case any of the clients want any. (He’d found when having difficult conversations, that it was easier when there were things to hold in your hands, or stuff in your mouth so you didn’t have to talk).

At around 6:45, people start to slowly trickle in, and Sokka greets them all at the door with a warm smile. Aang leads them to the circle, and starts off with a roll call. 

“It looks like everyone is here except for one,” he notes. “Let’s go ahead and get started, and hopefully he’ll show up.” 

Aang gets started by introducing himself and Sokka, and setting up the expectations for the group. He explains that this specific group will only run for a month, and meet twice a week to help provide an intensive grief support response. He goes on to say that this is a diverse group in just about every way except for one thing: everyone there had lost someone important to them, including himself and Sokka. He ends his spiel with the classic confidentiality notice, and then gets started. 

They make it through about half of the introductions - people sharing their name, who they’d lost, and what they hope to get out of the group, when Aang calls for a short break. He tells the group that it's important to take breaks during these sessions because the topics can get heavy, and people tend to overshare when they really start to open up, so tonight's session would probably just end up being all introductions so the group can get used to each other. 

Sokka makes his way to the food table, and as he starts loading a plate, the gym door swings open. 

A guy walks in looking flustered, his dark hair in a messy knot on the top of his head. His red dress shirt is wrinkled and rolled at the sleeves.

“Is it over?” he asks, panting, as if he just ran here. 

Sokka can’t help but smile. “No, just taking a quick break. Come on in.”

“Okay,” he says, shoulders visibly relaxing. “Good, thanks. Sorry I'm late.”

"It's no problem," Sokka replies. He sets his plate down and stretches out a hand. “I’m Sokka. I help run this group with Aang. And you are?”

“Zuko,” he replies, taking Sokka’s hand in his. It’s unusually warm, but that's also kind of nice considering the heating system in the gym left much to be desired in the dead of winter. Zuko smiles at Sokka then and for a moment Sokka forgets what he’s even doing there in the first place, because this guy’s eyes are so _golden_ and _woah wicked scar -_

He snaps out of it when Aang calls the group back into session. They make their way back to the circle and continue with introductions, starting with Zuko.

“Hey,” he says, lifting a hand awkwardly to wave. “Zuko here.” 

“I’m glad you made it, Zuko,” Aang says. “Do you mind telling us a bit about why you’re here?”

Sokka watches him intently, and notices the way he tenses slightly when Aang asks it, but listens all the same as Zuko shares.

“I, um...my Uncle. He died about a month ago." He says it calmly, but Sokka can sense that it pains him to even talk about it - if the way he’s clenching his fists is any indication. 

“We’re very sorry for your loss, Zuko,” Aang replies. “And we’re glad you’re here. Is there anything else you'd like to share tonight?"

Zuko shakes his head, and Aang moves on.

Sokka can't help but be intrigued by this guy - there was clearly an interesting story there. He just hoped that at some point over this group, Zuko would actually share it.

When time is up and the group disperses, Sokka finds him at the water dispenser. “Hey,” he says. “Hope that went okay. It’s my first time helping run one of these groups, so I just want to check in.”

Zuko smiles at him but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, it was fine. I mean, I’ve never been to one of these things either, so. I guess we’re in it together?”

“Guess so,” Sokka replies, smiling.

“I uh, better get going,” Zuko says, checking his watch. “I have to be home in time for Izumi's bedtime or Azula’s going to kill me.” 

“Bedtime?” 

Zuko scratches at the back of his neck. _Man, this guy is cute...WAIT. Stop, Sokka. This is literally a client, you imbecile. Stop being weird._

"Yeah uh," Zuko says. "For my daughter. She's 5."

 _Daughter?_ _If he had a kid, and mentioned a woman's name, he must be married or something, right? I don't see a ring but...I knew that was too good to be true. Doesn't matter, anyway. He's a client right now and my job is to help him. That's all. Maybe we can just be friends._

Sokka doesn't ask any more questions, and steps out of the way so Zuko can move past. "See you Thursday, then?"

The small smile that Zuko returns is the only answer he needs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY a fic that I actually have some reference for because I have a social work degree lol. I knew it was good for something.
> 
> And sorry I killed Iroh :( But I hope you liked this so far! No idea how long this is going to be yet.
> 
> Keep in mind that what I'm ultimately trying to portray here is that grief is weird, and not linear, and there's no one way to go through it. Zuko & Co. are going to have some ups and downs as they try to navigate all of this. But they'll find support along the way and figure it out.
> 
> On location: I used "Republic City" as the name for the community center but the location for the story as a whole is just based on the general vibe of a North American city because that's where I live. Same goes for the elementary school - its based on schools I've been to and worked in here in the states. I didn't feel like picking a specific city because it just didn't feel that important lol
> 
> **Also, nothing is going to happen between them until Zuko is no longer in the grief group, so don't worry about the possibility of any weird counselor/client power dynamics because that's absolutely not what I'm going for here. 
> 
> For reference, I'm imagining them to be in their early 30s.
> 
> Final note: Yes, Izumi's turtle is also named Izumi. This will come up again later lol 
> 
> Thanks for reading. I'm gonna try my best to update weekly. Comments always appreciated <3
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @marriedzukka :)


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko makes a friend. Sokka says goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw some discussions of death but nothing graphic

The emptiness turns its face to us and whispers,  
‘I am not empty, I am open.’

-Tomas Transtromer

★

Zuko didn’t mean to be late to group that night. But Izumi (the turtle) got lost because Izumi (the daughter) let her roam around while her bedroom door was open. So instead of showering after work and eating a quick dinner before heading to his first grief support group like he planned, he was preoccupied with finding a small turtle in their apartment while his daughter cried on the couch. 

He was about to tell Izumi not to worry about it, and that they could look for her later - because he was definitely going to be late now, and they still had to drive to Azula’s to drop Izumi off. But just as he was putting on his coat and shoes to leave, he spotted her. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t put my shoes on yet,” he noted, pulling the small turtle out from inside his loafer. Izumi smiled wide and grabbed her from him, running back upstairs to place her in the tank. 

Of course, not only was Zuko late to begin with, he had to hit every single red light on the way there, too. Eventually he pulled into the lot of the community center, almost 40 minutes late - _jesus_ \- and made his way inside. It was confusing at first - the Center was huge, but the receptionist smiled sweetly at him and directed him to the other side of the campus, where the gym was located. He thanked her, and jogged across the courtyard after she was out of sight. 

He continued to panic when he entered the gym and saw everyone standing up - he thought he might have missed the group altogether. But then a guy standing at the food table made eye contact, and he found himself feeling more at ease when he assured Zuko that he was in fact, _not_ too late, and could still join the group. 

The guy stretched a hand out to him and introduced himself - _Sokka_ , he said - and Zuko momentarily contemplated turning around and leaving, because _good_ _God_. Sokka’s hair was shaved at the sides with the rest pulled into a ponytail. Freckles dotted his cheeks and black glasses framed his blue eyes, the tips of his bright smile rising to meet them.

He was beautiful. 

_Get it together, Sozin. You’re not here to meet random guys, for fuck’s sake._

Thankfully, before he could embarrass himself any more, the group leader called them back into session.

★

Zuko arrives to the next group early. 

Not only does he loathe being late, but he also doesn't want anyone to think he’s a flake who’s completely falling apart. No one else needs to know that he hasn't slept well in months and forgot to eat lunch today (and most days). He's trying his best. Sort of. 

Most of his energy goes towards taking care of Izumi anyway, which has gotten easier now that she's a little older. But still, Zuko would be lying if he said it wasn't exhausting being a single parent. He was slowly teaching Izumi how to be a little more self-sufficient, but at the end of the day - all of the decisions and responsibility fall to him. He's okay with it, though. Izumi is a great kid - the greatest, in his humble opinion - and she makes it easy. 

He wants to be able to point to her and say, _look, see! My kid is doing great. So there's no need to worry about me._ He even managed to brush his hair into a neater bun AND change into a (not as) wrinkled shirt before coming tonight, so maybe he doesn't even need grief support at all. He's doing _fine_.

There’s no one in the gym yet, but the refreshments are set up, so he makes his way over and pours some coffee into a small styrofoam cup. He takes a sip and winces, making a disgusted sound. 

“That bad, huh?” 

He turns to see Sokka, walking over with a basket of individual coffee creamers and sugar packets. “Maybe these will help?” 

Zuko tries to ignore the way his stomach flips at the sight of him - he’s wearing his hair down tonight. It’s longer in the front and frames his face perfectly. 

After a second, Zuko snaps out of it and replies, “Don’t think so. I usually drink it black.”

Sokka wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” 

He pours himself a cup too, and proceeds to add 3 creamers and 2 sugar packets to it. Zuko can’t help himself. “ _That’s_ gross. I don’t know how you drink it like that. It’s basically dessert.” 

“Well, I’ve found that sugar covers a world of hurt when it comes to bad coffee," he says with a wink. "Plus, I’m not the one who usually makes it.”

“Probably for the best.”

Sokka laughs and raises the cup to his mouth, taking a big sip. He sets his cup down before looking back at Zuko and crossing his arms, a sly smile on his face. “You wanna know a secret?”

“...Sure.”

“The best coffee in town isn’t even at a coffee shop.”

“Is that so?” Zuko asks, playing along.

“Mhmm,” Sokka says proudly, like he’s about to rock Zuko’s world with this precious information. “I found it one day while I was on a run. It’s a little tea shop down by the riverfront.”

Zuko freezes. “Let me guess - The Jasmine Dragon?”

“Aw, come on!” Sokka pouts. “No one else ever knows about that place! How long have you been going there?”

Zuko swallows, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and unsure of himself. “My entire life. My Uncle used to own it.”

“Shit - I’m sorry, I had no idea." 

“No, no,” Zuko says, waving his hand. “It’s fine. I haven’t actually been there in awhile. Not since he got sick and stepped down, anyway.” 

“Wow,” Sokka says. “Small world, huh?”

“Guess so.” Zuko tries to smile, but he’s pretty sure it comes across as sadder than he means it to, if the way Sokka’s looking at him is any indication. Like he’s just taken a precarious step onto a frozen lake and he’s unsure if it’s going to support the weight, or crack underneath the pressure. 

The gym door opens behind them, and Aang strolls in. “Zuko!” he says enthusiastically, a smile spread wide across his face. “I’m so glad you’re here! You’re a bit early, though.” 

“Hope that’s okay,” Zuko replies. “I didn’t want to be late again.”

“Hey, it was no problem," Aang says. 

Zuko quips back, “Good, I'd hate to get points off for tardiness." 

Both Aang and Sokka laugh, and he thinks - _hey maybe this group therapy thing isn't so bad. I'm doing great._

“We’ll get started in a few minutes," Aang says. "I’m gonna go greet people at the door. See you in a few!”

He nods, and Aang practically bounces through the door. 

“Is he always like that?” Zuko asks, turning back to Sokka. 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. _Cheery_.”

Sokka gives him an amused look. “.... _Cheery_?”

Zuko can feel the blush rising in his cheeks and tries to stamp it down. “Yeah, just like...overly enthusiastic.” 

“He can be,” Sokka says, shrugging it off. “But he’s also been through a lot. Don’t let the _cheery_ disposition fool you.”

Fifteen minutes later, the group is settled for their next session. They start with a review of group expectations and confidentiality rules, and then Sokka hands out clipboards with pieces of paper and pencils to everyone. Aang instructs them to write their name in a circle in the middle of it, and then take a few minutes to identify their support systems, like friends, family, and other communities they’re a part of. The goal, he says, is to create enough branches around yourself so that when one is unavailable, you can lean on another for support. 

Zuko’s list is painfully short. 

He strains to come up with anything else while the other group members begin to share things like their partners, families, faith communities, sports leagues, even book clubs where they meet with friends frequently and feel connected. But Zuko still comes up short. His tree looks less like a tree and more like a twig. 

When it’s finally his turn, he says as much. “All I could think of was Azula, Izumi, and Mai. That’s it.” 

“And these are all family members?” Aang asks. 

“You could say that,” he answers. Mai was technically just his friend but she was also Izumi’s surrogate, so they were basically family now. Izumi called her Aunt Mai, and even though she lived out of state now, they did the occasional video chat or phone call. But the group doesn't really need to know all the details, so he doesn’t elaborate.

Aang looks like he’s ready to move on to the next person, and Zuko’s grateful that he doesn’t have to clarify any more, until Sokka’s voice catches his attention. “What about the other one?” 

“What?” Zuko says. “No, that was it.” 

Sokka looks unsure, but continues. “There’s another name there but you crossed it out.” 

_Perceptive bastard._

Zuko clears his throat, feeling very vulnerable now with all eyes on him. “I wrote Iroh - that was my Uncle’s name. But then I realized how stupid that was and crossed it out.” 

Sokka opens his mouth to reply, but Aang lifts a hand and beats him to it. “That’s okay, Zuko. He supported you for a long time. It’s normal to still want his help or advice.” 

“What’s the point?” Zuko finds himself asking, voice a little more on edge than he would have liked. “He can’t answer me.” 

“Not necessarily,” Aang says, and his voice is gentle as he continues. “But have you ever had a moment where you thought about what he _might_ say if he were here? Our loved ones leave impressions on us that can still impact our decisions and feelings, even after they’re gone. Iroh can still support you, in a small way.”

Zuko considers this. Yes, actually - he _did_ have one of those moments. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he has moments like that all the time. When he’s making tea for himself and Izumi - _Nephew, mind the temperature, jasmine is delicate -_ when he’s feeling stressed at work - _Zuko, you must rest your mind and body. A moment of quiet is good for the soul -_ when he broke down crying in the living room and felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of Iroh’s loss - _A little help from others can be a great blessing._

Iroh is still helping him, even if he isn’t here.

★

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Sokka says, stepping up to Zuko.

Zuko shrugs on his coat, and wraps his red scarf around his neck. “It’s okay. You were just trying to help.” 

“I’m new at this kind of thing, sort of, so if I ever overstep a boundary, please feel free to tell me to shove it.”

This pulls a small smile from Zuko. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Sokka opens the gym door for him, and together they walk across the courtyard back towards the community center. He doesn’t have a coat on, and it doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. 

“So,” he says, “gotta get home to your daughter, right?” 

Zuko nods.

“And your partner?”

 _What the._ “My...partner?” he asks.

“Yeah...Azula?”

A laugh escapes Zuko’s throat. “No. Absolutely not.”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Sokka asks, his smile growing wider. Zuko isn’t sure if the blush on his cheeks is from the cold or not. 

“Azula’s my sister,” Zuko clarifies. “She watches Izumi sometimes.”

“Oh, right.” Sokka scratches behind his ear. “What about Mai?” 

“Mai is...a friend. It’s complicated.” 

“So...no partner then?”

Zuko stops in his tracks, cocking his head slightly to look at him with amusement. “Why do you wanna know?”

Sokka smiles and shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. Just trying to get to know you, I guess. I thought maybe we could be friends.” 

“Friends.” Zuko says, trying to process.

“Yeah,” Sokka answers, eyes sparkling under the light of the streetlamp. “If you want to, I mean. I know you’re in our group right now but it’ll end in a few weeks, and it just seems like you could use some more friends in your life - No offense.” 

Zuko laughs to himself and shakes his head. After a moment, he extends a hand towards Sokka. “Sure, why not. Friends.” 

Sokka smiles and grips his forearm, giving it a shake. “Good.” 

Zuko lingers there for a moment before pulling away. “I better go. Izumi’s waiting.” 

“Right, of course. After you.” 

They make their way into the parking lot and before Zuko gets into his car, Sokka calls out behind him. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Zuko fumbles with his keys for a moment, and then turns to look back at him. 

“No partner,” he says. “It’s just me and Izumi.” 

Sokka nods, and Zuko can practically see the gears turning in his head, even if he isn’t sure what they’re spinning for. 

“Goodnight, Zuko.” 

Zuko nods back at him, and then heads home. 

★

He’s inside the apartment less than 10 seconds before Izumi’s small arms wrap around his legs. “Daddy!!” 

“Hey honey,” he says with a smile. He reaches down and scoops her into his arms. “How was your night with Aunt Zula?” 

“Great!” she exclaims. “We had a _spa_ night-look!”

Izumi looks so proud of herself, for knowing a grown-up word like _spa_ , and lifts a hand to show Zuko her painted fingernails - pink and glittering. Zuko takes her hand in his and thumbs over knuckles. “Very beautiful,” he says. “It’s time to say goodnight now though. Azula has to go home.” 

His sister rounds the corner then, and puts a hand on her hips. “You’re late.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says. “I got caught up talking with somebody afterwards.” 

Azula arches an eyebrow but doesn’t press him for more information. If this was any other time, she probably would have, so at this moment he’s more grateful than ever that he has a 5 year old daughter who has an early bedtime. 

“Whatever,” she says finally, sighing. “There’s some leftover pasta in the fridge if you want any. I’m gonna head out. And Izumi,” she says, “don’t pick at your nails or the color won’t last long.”

“Yes Aunt Zula.” 

A few minutes later, after her teeth are brushed and Izzy the turtle is fed, Izumi snuggles under her covers. “Can I have a story tonight, Daddy?” 

“I don’t know, duckling. It’s already pretty late.” 

“Oh pleeeease,” she whines. “Just one?” 

Zuko sighs and searches her bookshelf for something short, until he finally lands on one of their favorites - _Frog and Toad Are Friends._

He reads her the story about the lost button - and Izumi giggles at the voices he does for each of the characters - frog and toad, the sparrow, the raccoon, each unique and silly in their own way. He finishes the story and then places the book back on the shelf as Izumi sighs happily. 

“Daddy,” she says. “Do you have a best friend?” 

“Uh. I’m not sure. I guess _you’re_ my best friend, Izumi.” 

She giggles. “I can’t be your best friend, silly. I’m just a kid.” 

Friends aren’t really Zuko’s specialty. When you’re in your 30’s, it’s just not easy to make new friends anymore, not the way it is when you’re younger. You either get lucky enough to work with people you don’t despise, or you manage to keep friends past college. Otherwise, you have to do the work of putting yourself out there to find people. But when you have a young child like he does, anything you want gets put on the back burner so you can concentrate on them, so Zuko really didn't have time for trying to make new friends. And he was fine with that, for a long time. 

But his mind goes back to earlier that evening - to blue eyes and freckles and a hand warm on his forearm, and he thinks - maybe it’s time to try a little harder. 

★

“I think this is the last of it,” Sokka says, handing a big cardboard box to Suki, who’s standing in the back of a large moving truck.

She nods and takes it, finding a spot among the many, many boxes and pieces of furniture she’ll be taking with her on the move to Yue’s. She dusts her hands off on her overalls, and then places them on her hips to look proudly at their progress. “Not bad for a day’s work.” 

“Yeah, you owe me though,” Sokka responds with a cheeky smile. “I can think of about 100 different things I would rather be doing on a Saturday than helping you move all your shit.”

Suki smiles and rolls her eyes. “How’s pizza sound?”

“You’ve always known the way to my heart, Suki. Make it a deluxe and we can call it even.”

They reenter the apartment to find Yue sweeping the hardwood floor in the living room, now almost completely empty except for the TV on its stand and the coffee table. Apparently Suki had purchased more of their furniture than Sokka realized, but this gives him a good excuse to do one of his favorite things: shopping. That's something to look forward to, at least. 

Suki orders pizza and they end up sitting together on the floor to eat. When they’re done, Sokka lays back on the floor, resting his hands behind his head. The ceiling fan spins above him and he finds himself transfixed on the repetitive movement, until someone speaks up. 

“This is weird,” Suki says, voice quiet.

Yue reaches for her hand. “But exciting though, right?” she asks.

“Yes, of course,” Suki answers, leaning over to kiss her girlfriend. “I’ve just lived here for so long, that’s all. I’m gonna miss this place...walking to the corner market for snacks, having my own closet, a dishwasher…” 

Sokka looks at her. “Is that all? I think you’re forgetting one _very_ important thing you’ll miss.” 

Suki smiles. “Right. The tabby cat in apartment 6…”

Sokka kicks her playfully, and she laughs. “Of course I’ll miss you too, stupid. But I won’t be that far away. And we still work together.” 

A moment passes and her voice turns more serious. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Sokka?” 

“Oh yeah,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t worry about me, Sooks.” 

She nods and smiles, and leans back into Yue, who places a kiss on her temple. “You’ll always be welcome at our place, Sokka,” Yue says. “I hope you know that.” 

“Yeah, I do. Thanks Yue.”

After a few minutes they clean up and the girls start to leave, but not before Suki hugs him - the kind of hug where you try to break away first but you can’t because the other person just holds on tighter - they keep holding on as if to say, _hey - I really love you_ _and_ _I need you to understand that._ When she finally pulls away, the tears in her eyes mirror his own. 

He stands on the porch and waves goodbye as they drive away in the moving truck, and then heads back inside. Afternoon light is falling in rays onto the hardwood floor, and particles of dust float and dance in the empty space they illuminate. There is no sound except for the constant whirl of the ceiling fan and his own breathing. 

The silence of their apartment mixed with the sight of their barren living room and Suki’s bedroom being empty hits him like a truck. No more cooking together, no more late night fast food runs, no more lazy Saturdays hanging around the apartment together, no more laughing when the upstairs neighbor brings a date home and gets carried away, no more sharing rides into work or confiding in each other over coffee in the morning. 

He’s happy for Suki - unbelievably happy, she deserves every bit of happiness she’s getting - but he’s also deeply sad that his best friend won’t be a few steps away at any given moment. He told her that he would be fine, but now he isn’t so sure as he stands in the empty space she left behind. For the first time in a long time, Sokka is well and truly _alone_. 

★

“Okay,” Aang says, folding his hands in his lap. “Tonight might be...challenging for some of us. But because this is an intensive group, you probably figured this would happen at some point.”

The group sits silent in the circle, watching Aang expectedly (or nervously, in Zuko’s case). 

Aang smiles sympathetically. “Tonight we’ll be discussing the death itself. If you’re truly not comfortable sharing, that is absolutely fine, but just remember that the reason we’re here is to help each other process what happened to us when our loved one passed away. So I encourage you all to share something, even if it’s not a detailed account. Now, is there anyone willing to go first?” 

Sokka looks around the group. His eyes meet Zuko’s and he sees him shake his head _ever_ so slightly as if to say, _please don’t call on me. Please don’t call on me._

“How about I go?” Sokka says. 

“Uh, sure Sokka,” Aang replies. “Go ahead.”

Sokka nods, and begins. “Well, uh. I’d like to share about my Mom. She died about ten years ago now, but I still remember it like it was yesterday...I was 20 years old, attending University downtown with my sister, Katara. We would go home on the weekends to see our parents, but on that particular weekend, Mom said she wanted to come visit us instead. I’ll never know why, exactly. It wasn’t part of our usual plan, so I guess she just wanted to do something different for once.”

He waits a beat, then continues. “We all went out to dinner that night, and a walk by the river. It was nice, but didn’t last long because of the storm clouds rolling in. Mom and Dad decided to head home, and on the way, Mom lost control of the car because of the rain and their car went into a ditch. An ambulance came, but she was gone before they ever made it to the hospital. We never even got to say goodbye.”

His story hangs heavy on the group, until Aang breaks the silence, laying a hand on Sokka’s forearm. “Thank you for sharing that, Sokka. I’m so sorry about your Mother. That must have been really difficult.”

Aang knew better than anyone just how difficult it was. He was there for the worst of it, after she passed. Most 20 year old guys would not want to help their college roommate's family plan a funeral and then try to pick up the pieces while still in school. But Aang was different, and they became fast friends. Whenever Sokka needed anything, all he had to do was ask. 

“It was a long time ago,” Sokka says. “But it still hurts to think about.”

“And that’s a perfectly normal experience,” Aang says. “For some people, grieving is a life-long process. There are a lot of hurdles to overcome. It doesn’t start and stop with the death itself. But that’s why we’re here - to start that process together. Now, would anyone else like to share?”

An older woman raises her hand, and begins talking about her deceased husband, and then a man who lost his brother shares his story, and around the circle they go, sharing one story after another. Sokka does his best to nod and respond to each person if Aang doesn’t, but his eyes keep coming back to Zuko - whose shoulders look so tense as if he’s a rubber band about to snap. He can’t seem to make eye contact with anyone, and he’s got a white knuckled grip on the winter gloves he's holding in his lap. 

Sokka waits with bated breath when it’s finally his turn. Zuko lifts his head and opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Aang tells him _it’s fine, take your time,_ but before they know it, Zuko is up and walking out of the gym as fast as he can go. 

Sokka finds him sitting on the curb by the front entrance with his arms draped over his knees - illuminated by the glow of a streetlamp, golden and warm against the cool darkness of the winter evening. Slowly, Sokka makes his way over and sits at his right side. Zuko is still trying to gather himself - his eyes are closed as he takes deep breaths, forming clouds in the cool air in front of him. Sokka notices a tear track running down his cheek. 

In an effort to fill the silence and break the ice, Sokka looks up at the sky and says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Pretty clouds.” 

Zuko breathes out quickly from his nose - Sokka figures that’s probably about as close to a laugh as he’s going to get out of him right now.

“Yeah,” he responds, finally opening his eyes. “Fluffy.” 

They fall back into silence, but after a moment Zuko speaks up again, voice shaky and quiet. “Does it ever get easier?” 

Sokka’s surprised by his sudden serious question, but he thinks about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know if it gets _easier_. I think you just get used to it.” 

Zuko nods, and wipes the tears from his face. He rests his arm on his knees again and fidgets with his hands. “I was with him. My Uncle - when he died.” 

“Zuko, you don’t have to-” 

But he continues, as though if he lets himself stop, he’ll never get the words out. “He’d been sick for awhile. In and out of the hospital for radiation treatments and other therapies. But nothing was working. About a year ago, he decided to stop treatments altogether. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was stubborn. He just wanted his last days to be peaceful.”

“That makes sense,” Sokka says.

“It got worse about six months ago, to the point where I had to hire a live-in nurse for him. But towards the end, he just kept asking for me, and he wouldn’t let her anywhere near him. So I took some time off of work, and stayed with him. I let Izumi visit him a few times, when he was alert, but for the most part those last couple of weeks, she stayed with Azula. I just didn’t want her to see him like that.” 

He sighs deep, and continues. “It was a Sunday. He’d been doing worse, but he wanted tea in the garden because the weather was nice that day. So I helped him out there, and we had our tea. At some point, I went back inside to get some more water, and when I came back out, his eyes were closed as if he’d fallen asleep. But he wasn’t asleep. He was gone.” 

Sokka waits for a beat. “Zuko, I am so sorry.” 

Zuko returns a sad smile. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Sokka says. “How did that feel?”

“Not great,” Zuko answers truthfully. “But thanks for listening.”

Sokka stands then and extends a hand down to him. “Anytime. That’s what friends are for.” 

Zuko looks up at him, and takes it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I know that one was really depressing but I PROMISE I have fluffier stuff planned. Next update will feature some Toph, and things are gonna get MUCH BETTER once Zuko's done with the group, so hang in there :) Thanks for reading!! <3
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @marriedzukka!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko worries about Izumi. Sokka accepts some help.

"Love knows no shame. To be loving is to be open to grief, to be touched by sorrow,

even sorrow that is unending. The way we grieve is informed by whether we know love."

\- bell hooks

★

“Welcome! Please, come in. Miss Temura will be here soon.” 

Ms. Lee is nothing but bright eyes and a wide smile as Zuko enters the kindergarten classroom. His eyes fall on Izumi, who sits at one of the small tables in the middle of the room. She lifts her head and waves, and then goes back to drawing. Zuko makes his way over and pulls out the (very) small chair next to her and attempts to sit down. It’s a bit awkward and uncomfortable because it’s meant for someone _much_ smaller than him, but he does his best to get comfortable as he settles in next to his daughter. His suit is definitely going to get wrinkled sitting like this, but whatever. Worse things have happened.

“How was your day, Izumi?” 

Izumi remains preoccupied with her drawing as she mumbles, “Fine.”

“Just fine?” Zuko prompts. Izumi shrugs as she keeps coloring. He hates seeing her like this - dejected and so quiet. It’s not like her - she’s usually the one cheering _him_ up, and lighting up any room she enters. Zuko doesn’t want to push, not here anyway and especially when they’re about to meet her new counselor, so he doesn’t ask any more questions and gets up to speak with Ms. Lee instead. 

“Her day was fine,” Ms. Lee says in a quiet tone. “But I’ve noticed recently that she’s withdrawing from her peers more than usual.”

“Withdrawing?” Zuko can’t fathom it. 

“I think…” Ms. Lee trails off as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I think she might be lonely. I’ve tried encouraging her to join with her peers in play at recess, and in free time during class, but she tends to just stick to herself.”

Zuko looks at his daughter, coloring alone at the table, and wills his heart not to break in half. “How long has this been going on?”

“A little over a week.”

His mind tries to piece together what could have possibly caused her to act like this within the last two weeks...their routine hasn’t changed much - he’s made sure of it. He makes sure she gets enough sleep at night and that she's fed well and taken care of. He knows she's grieving Iroh too, but this is all throwing him for a loop. He barely knows how to grieve on his own, let alone help her through it too. But he's doing everything he can, like agreeing to get her a counselor, and even getting support for himself and - _oh_. 

The only thing in their routine that changed in the last 2 weeks was because of _him_. Two nights a week, he leaves her to go to the grief support group. He hadn't even thought to ask Izumi how she felt about it. Azula always takes good care of her in all of the practical ways, but now he realizes that it's 2 hours without _him_ , without an emotional support that truly understands her. No wonder she was withdrawing from people. 

Zuko’s never felt more conflicted in his life - he _needs_ to keep going to the group, but Izumi needs him too. His mind tries to spin a compromise but he keeps coming up short. 

The classroom door opens then, and a young woman enters. She’s smiling warmly and her eyes are kind as she extends a hand towards him. “You must be Mr. Sozin. I’m Jin Temura, Izumi’s new counselor.”

He takes her hand and shakes it, grateful for the distraction. “Nice to meet you. Izumi, do you want to come say hi?”

Izumi nods and makes her way over, clinging to Zuko’s side as she mumbles a soft “Hello.”

Jin kneels down to her level and smiles at her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Izumi. My name is Ms. Jin. I’m gonna be here to help you at school when you get upset and need a break, okay?” 

Izumi looks up to Zuko, who nods in encouragement. 

“Would you all like to take a walk with me?” Jin asks. “I’d like to show you something.” 

Jin extends her hand to Izumi, who tentatively takes it. Zuko grabs Izumi’s backpack and hooks an arm through one of the straps, throwing it over his shoulder. They follow Jin down the hallway, lined with children’s artwork and writing samples. After a minute or so they reach a door that has Jin’s name on it, and she welcomes them in.

Izumi’s eyes light up as she looks around the office. It’s much smaller than her classroom, but infinitely cozier, with walls painted light blue and decorated with lights. A couple of bean bag chairs sit nicely on a large fuzzy carpet in front of the window, which looks out into the school courtyard. 

“Go ahead,” Jin encourages Izumi. “Look around, it’s okay. This is where we’ll come to take breaks sometimes, when you need it.” 

Izumi pulls Zuko by the hand over to the carpet and immediately takes interest in the bookshelf nearby, filled to the brim with books, board games, and random fidget toys. There’s another table in the back of the room with what looks to be large tubs of dry rice, beans, and sand. 

“What’s all that?” Zuko asks. 

“Sensory bins,” Jin explains. “Some kids need tactile things to help them calm down, so I like to give them a lot of options. Would you like to try one, Izumi?” 

Izumi nods, and chooses the one filled with purple sand. Jin opens it for her and sets it in front of her on the table. “Dig in,” she says, smiling wide. Izumi doesn’t wait for further encouragement, and laughs when she picks up some of the sand, letting it fall softly through her fingers. 

The sight of Izumi smiling and laughing sets Zuko’s world back on its axis, and he can practically feel the tension melting off of his shoulders.

“So,” Jin says to him, “do you have any questions for me? And is there anything specific you’d like me to work on with her?”

“Yeah, I guess...how does this all work exactly? Like how often will she see you? We’ve never had to do anything like this before so I don’t really know what to expect.”

“Well,” Jin starts, “I’ll be able to check in on her at least 1-2 times a day, or more if she needs a break. Usually the breaks only last between 5 and 10 minutes, but for a lot of kids, that’s all they need. We might go for a walk around the school, or sit in the courtyard if the weather is nice, or come in here for a quiet place to decompress. It really all depends on the child and what’s going on with them that day.” 

Zuko nods. “Short breaks are good. I don’t want her to miss anything important.”

Jin looks thoughtfully at him. “At this age, emotional knowledge can be just as valuable as academic knowledge. It’s a skill that will follow them the rest of their lives. At the end of the day, I’m just here to listen to her, and help her feel safe. And maybe teach her a few things in the process.”

Zuko wonders to himself how his childhood would have been different if he’d had something like this - someone like Jin to teach him how to work through things instead of explode in anger or push people away. His mother tried, but she was usually too sick to really be there for him in the way that he needed, and then she passed away while he was still young. Iroh stepped in when he could, but it really wasn’t enough until he got custody of him and Azula when they were teenagers. By that point they’d already been so broken down by their father that it took years to undo the damage he'd caused. But Iroh was endlessly patient with them, and slowly they rebuilt themselves. 

Zuko doesn’t want that for Izumi - to grow up without a stable parent and spend half of her life just trying to put herself back together. He wants her to have everything he didn’t from as early an age as possible. He may not be able to protect her from everything, he knows he can't - but he wants to raise her to be able to look out for herself if she needs to. He always wants her to feel safe. 

He lowers his voice a bit, turning away from Izumi. “She lost her grandfather a little over a month ago. So that’s where a lot of these issues are coming from.” 

Jin’s facial expression changes then, to something so sincere and compassionate that Zuko almost feels uncomfortable under her gaze. “I am so sorry for your loss...I lost mine at a young age too, so I can understand what it feels like,” she says. She turns to look at Izumi, who’s still enraptured by the soft purple sand squished between her hands. 

He feels a little silly even asking this, but he does anyway. “Could you help her...make some friends here?” 

“We can definitely work on that,” Jin says, turning to him with a smile. “I’m happy to be able to support her right now, and you. She’s very lucky to have you. Not all children have parents that are as involved.” 

Zuko knows that feeling all too well. He didn’t know what a supportive parent felt like until Iroh stepped into that role for him when he needed it most. He wants to be able to do the same for Izumi, no matter what it takes. Even if it means putting his own needs to the side for a bit until she gets back on her feet. Even if it means quitting the grief group until he knows she's okay -

His Uncle’s voice, clear as though he were standing right there, echoes in his mind: _Zuko, you must look after yourself, too. You cannot fill another’s cup if yours is empty._

He smiles to himself at this and shakes his head at the way Iroh’s wisdom and proverbs still find a way to be relevant even though he’s gone. And even though Zuko still feels guilty that he’s taken time away from Izumi to get help for himself, he feels some warmth blossom in his chest at the fact that - actually, he _is_ a good Dad when it comes down to it. And he’s going to do what he needs to do to help her - and that includes helping himself. 

He has Iroh to thank for teaching him how.

★

The apartment is relatively quiet that night as they eat dinner, save for the sounds of the clock ticking, Izumi slurping up kenchin-jiru, and Azula’s perfectly manicured nails tapping the table. Zuko knows what it means - most likely that she has something to berate him about, so he pointedly ignores her and tries to focus on his food instead. 

The clock ticks. His sister sighs at him from across the table and he can feel her eyes on him, waiting for him to break. 

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap -_

“What is it, Azula?” Zuko finally asks, letting his spoon clink against the side of the bowl. 

“Do you have any weekend plans?” 

“What - no. I mean, other than the usual.” 

“So nothing,” she cuts. “Good. Then there’s no reason why you can’t work on the house.” 

There’s a ringing in his ears and the air feels thick all of a sudden - _Is it hot in here?_ He tries and fails to stop his shoulders from tensing, and his hand visibly clenches on the table. “I’m _not_ working on the house this weekend.”

“It’s been over a month. It’s time.”

“Do you really think I don’t know that?!” The ringing in his ears is replaced with his heartbeat, loud and frantic. Or maybe it’s the clock ticking. He’s not really sure.

Azula grits her teeth. “You can’t keep putting it off, Zuko-” 

“ _Enough_!” 

He shouts as his clenched fist flattens in a loud _slap,_ shaking the table. He meets Azula’s eyes, and then Izumi’s, looking back at him with uncertainty and bordering dangerously on the edge of fear _._ It’s enough to shock him back into reality - he _never_ raises his voice around Izumi or at her and he really doesn’t want to start now, no matter how much he’s hurting. Zuko knows firsthand how scary it is to see your father yell and shout in anger, and he would rather die than ever let Izumi see him like that. 

So he smooths out his hand on the table and takes a deep breath, trying to keep his voice level. “I’m sorry I yelled...I didn’t mean to. Izumi, why don't you go in the living room for a minute? You can eat your food while you watch TV, if you want.”

Izumi nods and he helps her pick up her bowl from the table without spilling it, giving her a gentle rub on her back before she carries it carefully into the living area. She plops down in front of the coffee table, and once he’s sure the sound of cartoons have sufficiently grabbed her attention, he turns back to Azula.

He’s still tense but he doesn’t want to raise his voice again on the chance that it would startle Izumi, so he sits back and closes his eyes to take a couple of deep breaths. 

“Look,” Azula says, her voice growing uncharacteristically soft, “I know it’s hard. I would do it myself but I know you’re more sentimental than I am, so I didn’t want to get rid of anything you’d potentially want. It can’t just sit there forever.” 

“Why not?”

She sighs. “Zuko, we have to sell it at some point. Do you really think Uncle would just want his house to sit there and rot?” 

He knows she’s right. Really, he does. But there are too many memories in that house that he’d have to face, including some that he would very much like to forget. Some stubborn part of him thinks that maybe if he just puts it off as long as possible, it won’t be that hard to clean out Iroh’s house when the time comes. Or maybe he won’t have to deal with it at all. 

(A bigger part of him knows that will never be true. It’s going to be hard, no matter when he does it). 

He leans his elbows on the table and runs a hand through his hair, long enough now to fall gently at his shoulders. “I just don’t know if I can do it.” 

“You have to.” 

He meets her eyes expecting to find them looking back with annoyance, but there’s nothing there but honesty. His sister is a lot of things, but a coddler is not one of them. If there’s something that needs to be done, Azula pushes him to see it through. Unless she gets to it first. 

He sighs. “Look, I’ll do it soon, okay? Just not...yet.” 

Azula doesn’t seem satisfied with his answer if the way her lips purse is any indication, but she nods at him anyway. Zuko’s appetite is effectively gone now thanks to that lovely conversation, so he gets up and puts his bowl in the sink. Quickly, he ties his hair up in a bun before walking over to grab his coat. 

“Isn’t it a little early for your group?” Azula asks. “I thought it didn’t start until 7.”

“Yeah, I just...need some time to clear my head before I go. You don’t mind?”

“No, just don’t be late coming back.” 

He rolls his eyes at her and shrugs his coat on, then walks over to bend down next to Izumi.

“I’ll be back for bedtime, okay?” he says quietly. 

Izumi nods and then throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. “I’ll miss you, Daddy.” 

He sighs into the embrace as he squeezes her back, and places a kiss to her temple. “I’ll miss you too.” 

He remembers his realization from earlier - and doesn’t want Izumi to feel confused about why he keeps leaving, so he pulls her back and smiles softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You know how Ms. Jin is your new friend who’s going to help you at school? Like when you feel sad or upset?” 

Izumi nods.

“Well, when I leave to go to my group, I’m spending some time with new friends, too. They’re helping me just like Ms. Jin is helping you, okay?”

This seems to get through to Izumi, because her big brown eyes don’t look as sad as they did a minute ago. “Okay, Daddy.” 

Zuko places a soft kiss to her forehead and walks back over to where their shoes sit laid out by the door, slipping on some boots before looking back at her.

“Love you, honey. Be good for Aunt Zula.” 

“Love you too,” she says with a bright smile. “Be good for your friends!”

He smiles at that as he walks out into the cold winter evening, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t have a plan, really. He just knows that he needs to do something to take his mind off of that conversation he had with Azula if there’s any chance of being able to participate in tonight’s group without embarrassing himself like last time. 

He didn’t plan to run out on the group the other night, it just sort of...happened. Aang was looking at him with an encouraging smile, but when he tried to open his mouth and respond, he couldn’t form any words. The eyes of the group were on him, including the startling blue pair belonging to his new friend Sokka, and the next thing he knew, he was outside and his lungs were sucking in air as though he’d just been drowning. 

He considered just getting in his car and leaving immediately, but then he sensed a presence to his right, sighing with relief when he realized it was only Sokka. 

For whatever reason, being vulnerable in front of Sokka wasn’t as hard as it was with so many others. That was weird, mostly because having friends like that isn’t something Zuko is used to. He rarely opens up in front of people he’s known for years, let alone someone he only met a couple of weeks ago. 

But Sokka almost made it easy, looking at him with kind eyes and a gentle smile as Zuko shared something so personal. He didn’t back away, and he didn’t make Zuko feel any lesser for doing so, which was...refreshing. Sokka had said _that’s what friends are for,_ and maybe he was right. If that’s what it feels like, Zuko thinks he could use a bit more of it in his life.

But the thing that struck Zuko the most about that conversation wasn’t the fact that Sokka had left the group to check on him, and wasn’t the fact that Sokka was kind or a good listener. What struck Zuko the most was Sokka’s honesty. 

It was different from the way Azula was honest - she was straight to the point, and wasn’t really concerned with how she came across. She was working on it though, especially since Iroh died. But Sokka’s honesty was different. It was gentle, palpable - as though he’d had all the time in the world to form a response. As though he knew exactly what to say so Zuko wouldn’t feel like running. As though somehow, he knew what Zuko needed to hear. 

In Zuko’s experience so far, most people try to be supportive by saying a bunch of bullshit like “everything happens for a reason” or “time heals all wounds.” But Sokka didn’t say any of that. He just...listened. And agreed. Sometimes you don’t want any advice or empty platitudes. You just need someone who will really _listen,_ to sit with you in the pain and to say, _yeah - this really sucks. But I’m here. And I see you._

Sokka _saw_ him. 

Zuko doesn’t let himself think any more about what that could possibly mean. They’re friends. And that’s good for now.

He pulls into the parking lot of the Community Center almost an hour early, still with no plan in mind, but figures he can at least wait inside and get out of the cold. As he walks the halls of the Center, he stops at a few bulletin boards and looks at the programs they offer, taking note of classes for kids that he thinks Izumi might be interested in. There’s another board with photographs of the staff during various programs hosted over the last year - and he finds himself smiling when he sees one of Sokka soaked head to toe in the dunk tank at a fundraising event. There’s a young woman standing in front of it and laughing - she’s shorter and her dark hair bobs around her ears. On the side he recognizes Aang, with his arms draped around the shoulders of a young woman with dark hair and bright blue eyes. Two young women are holding hands in the background - one with hair so blonde it’s practically white, the other with a brunette bob. There’s another guy there too, with dark hair and a smug smile, arms crossed proudly. 

They all look...happy. Like they’re actually friends. _Must be nice,_ Zuko thinks.

Some commotion down the hall from where he stands catches his attention - there’s shouting, a loud _THUD,_ and cheers from what he assumes is a group of people. Intrigued, and needing to kill some more time, he walks down the hall to investigate. 

★

“Alright, go easy on me Suki.” 

Suki smiles as her stance mirrors his own. She looks focused and determined, and Sokka knows that between her years of martial arts training and his bad knee, it doesn’t usually take much for her to take him down when they spar. But thankfully this is all just for show, so there’s no harm in it. Right? 

Sokka starts circling around Suki’s small frame, trying to decide which way to go first. The studio is tense and quiet as the attendees for the self-defense class sit on the floor in front of them, waiting to see the moves Suki will be teaching them tonight. 

She finally nods - Sokka lunges forward and attempts to grab her arm. She immediately grabs his wrist and swings it backwards and up to pin to his back, forcing him to fall to his knees. He winces and laughs, raising his other hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. I made that one too easy, you got me.” 

His knee feels fine as he stands, but there’s always doubt hanging in the back of his mind that he’s okay to do stuff like this without it flaring up. Whatever, though. Suki needs his help right now and there’s not really anything he _wouldn’t_ do for her if she asked. Including helping her demonstrate self-defense moves that sometimes result in him getting knocked on his ass in front of a bunch of strangers. 

They try the first move a couple more times from different angles, and then Sokka tries a different one from behind - snaking his arms under hers and then bringing his hands up to grip the back of her head, effectively locking her in place. Before he can even realize what’s happening, Suki takes a step out to the right, then hooks the other behind his legs. In one swift move, she puts all her weight onto her right leg and _falls,_ flipping Sokka over in the process and making him land on his back with a loud _thud_ on the mat _._ She’s got him pinned to the floor and smiles proudly as the class claps for her. 

“Good one,” he says, trying to catch his breath. There’s a slight throb starting to happen in his left leg but he decides to just push through and hope it doesn’t get worse. Suki pats him on the chest and then stands, offering a hand to help him up. “Think you got one more in you?” she asks. 

“Oh, I think you’re the one who needs to be asking yourself that,” he says, trying to egg her on. It’s all just for fun - Sokka knows full well that she can absolutely kick his ass right here and now if she really wants to, even if his knee wasn’t fucked up. (And he loves her for it). 

They start again, and Sokka lunges from behind her to wrap his arms around the tops of her shoulders, pulling her against him. Just then he happens to look up - and to his surprise, sees _Zuko Sozin_ of all people, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching them with a smile. He catches Sokka’s eyes and then raises a hand slightly to wave. 

Sokka is completely taken out of the moment and smiles back - he only realizes that he let his arms go slack around Suki, giving her the advantage, when her elbow swiftly meets his stomach. 

It’s not like the hit was _that_ hard, but he wasn’t expecting it - so it knocks the wind out of him, sending his knees crashing to the floor. He winces as pain shoots through the one on the left - somehow sharp and dull all at once.

“Shit, Sokka are you okay?” Suki asks, kneeling in front of him. “You were supposed to block that!” 

Sokka groans and then smiles. “All good, Sooks,” he says as he rubs at his stomach. “Ugh...I think that’s gonna bruise later.” 

She helps him up again, muttering under her breath something about _pushed too hard_ and _could’ve taken a break_ , but it doesn’t really register. He has to lean on her a little more this time because _yep -_ his knee is definitely starting to flare up. But it’s fine. He’s fine. Suki knows he hates to talk about it, so she doesn’t ask any more questions. He already knows she’ll be texting him about it later to check in, though. She always does.

“I gotta get going, Suki,” he says, and hopes that his light tone masks how much his knee is throbbing. “Me and Aang have that group soon.” 

Suki nods and asks the class to clap for Sokka in appreciation for the demonstration, to which he bows with as much panache as he can muster despite the pain he’s currently in. 

Zuko’s eyes shift from delighted to concerned as Sokka steps towards the door, slower than usual, and rubs at his stomach. Sokka tries to sound casual even if his mind is screaming _god if I don't sit down in the next 2-3 minutes I’m done for tonight._ “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Zuko responds. “I’m just...early. Are you okay?” 

Sokka smiles and tries to brush it off. “Oh yeah, all good. Suki’s one hell of a fighter.” 

“I can see that.” 

Zuko’s eyes move down Sokka’s frame to his left foot, now lifted slightly off of the floor because he can’t put as much pressure on it. He feels vulnerable under Zuko’s gaze, and he really doesn’t want him to see him like this, or anyone else for that matter. So he takes a deep breath and starts walking down the hall, trying his best to ignore the pain in his leg as he moves. Then he turns back to Zuko and smiles, nodding for him to follow. 

★

His office isn’t too far from the studio, _thank god,_ and he motions for Zuko to come in. 

Sokka quickly makes his way to the chair behind his desk and plops down, sighing with relief when the pressure is taken off his leg. He reaches down into one of the drawers in his desk and pulls out a pill bottle, emptying out a couple and tossing them into his mouth. He takes a swig from his water bottle to wash them down before he sits back and sighs again, closing his eyes. For a moment, he forgets Zuko is even there until he hears him speak. 

“Where are your glasses?” 

Sokka opens his eyes again. “Huh?” 

He can see the smooth side of Zuko’s face blush pink. “Your glasses...I’ve never seen you without them before.” 

Sokka tilts his head in amusement and then pulls them out of a desk drawer. “Kinda hard to spar with them on. I really only need them for reading, anyway,” he says, slipping them on. “There,” he says. “Better?” 

Zuko smiles slightly and nods, then continues looking around the room, stopping when he comes to a group of pictures hanging on the wall. “Who’s this? I saw her picture out on one of the bulletin boards, too.” 

Sokka leans over to get a better look and smiles when he sees it - it’s the one from the staff picnic last year where he’s got Katara thrown over his shoulder and they’re both laughing. “That’s my sister Katara. She works here part time, too. And also dates Aang. But you probably didn’t need to know that.” 

“Right,” Zuko says. “Do all of your friends and family work here?”

“Feels like it, sometimes.” 

“Sounds nice.”

There’s something laced in the way Zuko says it that gives Sokka pause. Like he’s sad. Or longing for something he can’t name. 

“It is,” Sokka answers. “We all look out for each other. Do you not have any friends where you work?”

It hits Sokka then that he doesn’t even know what Zuko _does_ for a living. It hadn’t come up in group and he’d never thought to ask. Thankfully Zuko doesn’t seem taken aback by his question and explains. 

“Not really,” he says. “I’m a lawyer, so...it’s a lot of solo work. Plus it’s not like I have a lot of time to make friends anyway, since Izumi is still so young.” 

“That sounds lonely.” 

Zuko shrugs. “I guess I’m just used to it by now.” 

Sokka grins. “But hey, now you’ve got me! So it’s not a lost cause.” 

Zuko gives a small smile in return. “Guess so.” 

Sokka stands and rounds the desk before leaning against the front of it to face Zuko. He winces slightly at his knee but tries to ignore it. “So, a lawyer huh? Bet that makes good money. Probably way more than a social worker, anyway.”

Zuko smiles again - Sokka’s starting to really like the look of it - and he says, “I’m just an intellectual property lawyer, but it pays well. Izumi and I are taken care of, anyway. So that’s all that really matters.” 

“Do you ever get to go to court?” Sokka asks, unable to mask his enthusiasm. 

“Court?” 

“Yeah, you know...do you ever get to stand up in court and be all dramatic like _I object! And Your Honor, my client rests his case,_ or- _”_

Zuko almost laughs. “No, nothing like that. I bet I’d be good at it though. I was a theater kid in high school, so I’ve got a flare for the dramatic. But no...mostly I just sit in an office and work on copyright infringement claims. Riveting stuff, I know.”

“I don’t know,” Sokka says. “Sounds interesting to me.” 

And he means it - for some reason hearing Zuko talk about things like copyright and trademark claims is fascinating. Whether it’s the subject matter or just the fact that he’s learning about Zuko’s life, Sokka isn’t sure. Some part of him thinks that he’d listen to Zuko read the fucking phone book if it meant being able to just listen to him talk. But he doesn’t really have the time to unpack all of that right now, because there’s another shooting pain in his knee again. He takes deeper breaths and leans over to rub it in a feeble attempt to control the pain. 

Zuko turns to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“All good now,” Sokka answers, picking up the pill bottle on the desk and giving it a shake. “Or, will be in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

“Does that happen...a lot?” Zuko shifts his weight and looks unsure, as if he’s stepping on something fragile and doesn’t want to push too hard. 

Sokka has been honest with Zuko about most things so far, but this is something he hates talking about with everyone, regardless of how nice they are or how much they care about him. Still though, it’s like he can’t help it when he answers Zuko truthfully anyway. 

“More than I would like.” 

“I’m sorry, ” Zuko says, his voice soft and sincere. 

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Sokka counters. “It’s from an old injury, but I’m used to it now.” 

“Letting Suki kick your ass probably doesn’t help.” 

Sokka smiles at this. “You’re probably right-”

“I’m definitely right,” Zuko quips, turning to look at the books on the shelf. Sokka thinks he sees the ghost of a smile on his face, but can’t be sure. There’s a knock at the door then, and a young woman walks in without waiting for a response. 

“Toph,” Sokka says, “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“I need help setting up for tonight.”

Sokka furrows his brow. “Tonight...but you don’t have any classes scheduled for Thursdays, Toph.” 

“I know that, dummy,” she says fondly. “But it’s not one of my usual classes - it’s yours.” 

“What? That’s not part of the plan-”

“Plans, _shmans,_ ” she deadpans. “Aang asked me to, so that’s what we’re doing. Don’t act like you’re not excited. You love art stuff.” 

“Fine,” Sokka says. “Hard to argue with that.” 

“Good, so let’s go,” she says. “I need help getting the supplies together.”

Sokka tries to stand but winces again at the pressure on his knee - the medicine hasn’t really kicked in yet so he’s still not feeling great. He tries to stand again anyway, but it’s Zuko’s voice that stops him.

“Let me,” he says, turning towards Toph. 

Sokka's taken aback by this - Zuko was perceptive enough to see that he was clearly still in pain and needs to rest. Sokka hates feeling like this - he just wants to be helpful and useful to his friends, but some days his stupid chronic pain makes it impossible. "You don't have to," he says. "I'll be alright."

Zuko shrugs and gives him a knowing smile. "That's what friends are for, right?" 

Toph turns in Zuko's direction. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh, um. I’m Zuko,” he says. Sokka watches as Zuko extends a hand to her in greeting, but Toph doesn’t take it (for reasons obvious to them, but not to Zuko. Sokka wants to say something - but it’s honestly just _too_ good, so he lets it happen). 

Zuko continues, still awkwardly holding his hand out. “I’m...in the grief group?”

Sokka betrays himself and smiles anyway, because Zuko looks concerned now that Toph isn’t acknowledging his handshake and Sokka just wants to wipe that adorable look off his face. 

“She’s blind, buddy.” 

“What? Oh-” he says, looking at his hand outstretched in front of him. He pulls it back quickly and then sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” 

Toph laughs. “It’s okay. Happens all the time. Still want to help me?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Sokka interjects. “Zuko, you don’t have to, seriously I’m fine-” 

“No, you’re not,” he answers pointedly, and the firmness of his statement is enough to keep Sokka in place. Sokka meets his eyes - golden and unwavering. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Zuko continues, voice softer than before. “I don’t mind.”

Sokka sighs, nodding in defeat. “Fine. See you guys in a bit.” 

★

Zuko’s eyes scan the art studio as he helps Toph unpack the supplies. One of the walls is a mosaic of various paintings and drawings, all vibrant and unique in their own way. “Did you...make all of these?” he asks. 

Toph snorts. “No way,” she says, as if she somehow knows exactly what he means even if she can’t see it. “I’m not much of a painter. I can teach it if I have to, but pottery is my specialty.” 

Zuko nods and turns back to the wall, and his eyes fall on one painting in particular. It’s an arctic landscape, dotted with stars and waves of Northern lights sweeping across the sky. It’s _beautiful,_ and Zuko finds himself getting lost in the details, completely swept up in the movement of the brushstrokes. He’s not even sure how long he stands there looking at it, but eventually his eyes catch on a name signed at the bottom: _S. Kunuk._

He wonders briefly if that could be Sokka, but he doesn’t know for sure. So he files it away for later, and goes back to helping Toph set up.

After a while the rest of the group starts arriving, including Aang and Sokka. Sokka doesn’t ask before sitting in the seat next to Zuko. “Thanks for helping her out,” he says. 

“No problem,” Zuko answers. “How you feeling?”

“Much better now. Thanks.” Sokka smiles at him then and Zuko gets distracted for just a moment - _damn his eyes are blue_.

Toph’s voice snaps him out of it. “Hey everybody, my name’s Toph Beifong, and I’m the disability advocate and art therapist here at the RCC. Before anyone asks, yes I am legally blind, and yes I can still make art.” 

Zuko meets Sokka’s eyes and he smiles at him again - likely also thinking about Zuko’s awkward introduction to Toph earlier.

Toph continues. “When Aang asked me to help with this group, it took me awhile to decide which medium to use, but I settled on pottery. Art is always therapeutic but there’s something special about working the clay and really getting your hands dirty - it’s my favorite medium, actually. It’s messy, finicky, and can be unpredictable, and the final product almost never turns out exactly like how we envision it. So I figured there really wasn’t a better metaphor for grief than that.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Aang says, and turns to the group. “Everyone okay with it?” 

The group nods, and Toph gets started passing out softball sized lumps of clay to each person. They hit the tables with a loud _THWACK,_ which startles a couple of the group members at first, but after a few minutes of Toph teaching them how to handle the clay and soften it, the atmosphere of the room settles into something a little more peaceful.

It takes a minute for the clay in his hands to soften up, but Zuko starts to get the hang of it, and even enjoys the process. Toph was right - it is messy, there’s clay all over his hands and under his nails, but at the same time it feels really good to push against it, and roll it over the table in repetitive motions. Sokka does the same next to him, and they fall into an easy silence as they work the clay along with the rest of the group. After a few minutes, he notices Sokka watching him. 

"What are you thinking about?" Sokka asks. 

"What?" 

Zuko swears he sees Sokka blush. "You were smiling to yourself...I was just wondering what put it there."

Had he been smiling to himself? Zuko is usually reserved so it throws him a bit that he was unknowingly expressing some emotion, and that Sokka was the one perceiving it. 

"I was just thinking," Zuko answers, "that Izumi would love this."

Sokka smiles and nods. "She seems like a great kid."

"The best, actually. Maybe -"

Sokka looks back up at him. "Hm?"

Zuko's unsure how to phrase this next part. He doesn't want to seem too eager. _Keep it casual, Sozin._ "Maybe you can meet her someday."

"Really?"

Sokka's looking at him with a thoughtful expression and suddenly Zuko worries that he's said too much, that he's overstepped some weird boundary between them. _Time to backtrack so Sokka doesn't think I'm being too forward._ "Yeah, I know you guys have programs here for kids, too."

Sokka's shoulders drop _ever_ so slightly, and if Zuko really wanted to analyze it, he almost seems disappointed. But just as quickly, his eyes light up again. "Oh yeah," he says. "We've got everything under the sun here for kids. Art classes, yoga, sports clubs, you name it."

If he's honest with himself, bringing Izumi to a class here wouldn't be a completely selfless move. This group was going to end sooner than later, and maybe Zuko wasn't ready to give up seeing Sokka so frequently just yet. 

Toph's voice carries across the room. “Now that your clay is ready, I want you to take a minute and think about what you’d like to make with it. It’s up to you - you can make something that reminds you of the person you lost, or you can just make something random as a form of self-expression. Anything you choose to make will be valid here - it’s not really about the final product, anyway. The process is the most important part. So try to have fun with it, if you can.”

Zuko smooths his fingers over the ball of clay a few times before he decides to make a tea cup - it’s the first thing he thought of when he thought of Iroh. Next to him, Sokka has already started pulling the clay apart to make something else. Zuko watches him for just a moment, smiling at the way Sokka sticks his tongue out as he concentrates. Zuko feels the urge to wipe the wrinkles from his forehead, or move the stray lock of hair that fell out of his ponytail away from his eyes so he can see better - but pushes the thought down as quickly as it came. That would be weird, considering they were just friends. That, and Zuko has clay all over his hands right now anyway. 

His tea cup turns out pretty wonky - he can’t quite smooth out the sides like he planned, but Toph reassures him. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she says. “You can be proud of yourself for the effort you put into it.” She turns towards Sokka next. “ _You_ on the other hand…” 

“What?” he says, looking up from where he’s been working intently. He holds it up then - it’s a small sculpture of an animal of some kind. At least, Zuko _thinks_ it’s an animal...it’s kind of hard to tell. 

Toph takes it from him and smooths her fingers over it. “I don’t get it. Is it...a bear?” 

Sokka gives her a quizzical look. “No - it’s a fish. See?” He points to one side of it. “It has a fin.” 

“I think you should stick to paintings, pal,” Toph says, giving it back to him. 

Sokka scoffs at this and turns to Zuko. “Come on, Zuko! Help me out here. Tell her it’s a fish.”

Maybe it’s that he feels more at ease after working with the clay, or maybe it’s because Sokka’s never looked cuter as he holds up his clay masterpiece and smiles at Zuko expectantly. Whatever the reason, Zuko hasn’t felt this happy in a while. He wishes he could just tell Sokka that, but that’s not what comes out of his mouth.

“If it is,” Zuko says, “it’s the ugliest fish I’ve ever seen.” 

Toph busts out laughing at this - Sokka fights back another smile but can’t help himself before he starts laughing too. It’s a nice sound, Zuko thinks. 

One that he can definitely get used to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
> \- As far as Zuko is concerned, Iroh was Izumi's grandfather. So when he's talking to Jin about it, that's why he calls Iroh her grandfather and not great Uncle. To be specific would mean explaining his past more, and he just doesn't really think it's anyone's business. Izumi doesn't know anything about Ozai or that he even existed, and Zuko prefers it that way for now. 
> 
> \- Next chapter you'll be getting the end of the grief group and some more Izumi! (among other things). And then the fun really starts :) 
> 
> \- While this fic is mainly Zuko focused, I also wanted to show Sokka's vulnerabilities too. Zuko isn't the only one who needs to learn to accept help. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, I appreciate you. Come find me on tumblr @ marriedzukka, if you want :)


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The support group comes to an end, but will Zuko say the same for his newfound friendship with Sokka?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: pov of an anxiety attack in this one, so just be aware of that! it's not too long but I just wanted to put this warning here for anyone who needs it, just in case.

The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places;

but still there is much that is fair,

and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief,

it grows perhaps the greater.

  
-J.R.R. Tolkien 

★

Zuko Sozin is not a lazy person. Dedicated work ethic is something that was instilled in him from a very young age, even if his father often took it too far, expecting nothing but perfection and reacting harshly when he inevitably fell short. It took years to let go of those mindsets - and Iroh was no small part of that, because he reminded Zuko often that it was okay to be human. To fail. To just _be_.

But even if he’s grown out of most of it, some habits die hard. So when he wakes up in a cold sweat on his desk at work, his first instinct is to mentally berate himself about it. He’s done well to keep his work and personal life separate for years...but grief was relentless, and was beginning to bleed into every part of Zuko’s life whether he wanted it to or not. 

His sleep schedule is still a mess. Most nights, he just tosses and turns as sleep evades him. When he does manage to fall asleep, it doesn’t last very long, probably due to the fact that he’s the lightest sleeper on the planet - even the slightest noise wakes him. He knows it’s from the years of living in fear under Ozai’s roof, but it’s been so long since then, and it still frustrates him that his body reacts this way. He’s an adult with a kid of his own for God’s sake, and he thinks he’s probably earned the right to get some sleep and rest when he needs to, but apparently the universe has different plans. 

He sits up at his desk and rubs at his face, willing himself to wake up. He checks the time - and sighs gratefully when he realizes he’s only been out for a few minutes. That was still enough time for someone to come in and find him like that, but he knows he would’ve heard the door open, so he’s in the clear. The last thing he needs right now is Zhao on his case about falling asleep on the job. 

His cell buzzes then and pulls him from his thoughts, and he answers it quickly when he sees the number from Izumi’s school. 

“Hi, Mr. Sozin? This is Jin Temura.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Is everything okay?”

Jin’s voice is calm and collected on the other end, which eases him somewhat. “Oh, yes. Izumi is fine, except -”

“Except what?”

“Well,” Jin starts, “Izumi is fine. But her hair is another story...she um...well, she cut it.” 

“I’m sorry, what?!” 

“Apparently she did it during free time this afternoon.” 

Zuko sighs. “Is it...bad?” 

Jin hesitates. “Define bad.”

“Miss Temura-” 

“Call me Jin, please.”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jin, is it salvageable?” 

“Yeah, I think so. I mean her bangs look like they went through a paper shredder but other than that, I think she’ll be fine.” 

“Why would she do that?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jin says. “I tried to ask her about it but she just told me she was bored. Has she ever done anything impulsive like this before?” 

He thinks about it for a moment. “No,” he says. “Nothing like this. Do you think...I mean, is she okay? Do I need to come get her early?”

“No, no,” Jin interjects. “I don’t think that’s necessary. She didn’t get in trouble or anything like that...Ms. Lee called me afterwards and Izumi took a break with me. But she didn’t seem to have a reason for doing it. And you know, kids do this kind of thing all the time, Mr. Sozin. I wouldn’t worry too much. But I’ll keep an eye on her for any other impulsive behaviors here at school and keep you posted.”

Her words do little to reassure him, but he thanks her anyway. 

★

“What’s with the hat?” Azula asks, eyeing Izumi from where she stands in the kitchen with Zuko as he prepares dinner. Izumi is seated on the couch watching cartoons and clinging tight to a stuffed bison plushie, her winter hat still on pulled down tight on her head.

Zuko sighs. “She won’t take it off. She cut her hair at school today.” 

Azula’s eyes widen. “How bad is it?” 

“Not sure yet,” he says. “She won’t let me look at it.” 

“Zuko, you’re her father. Just make her take it off so we can assess the damage.” 

He shakes his head immediately. “No. Some things you can’t force, Azula.”

“Well she can’t wear that hat all the time. What about at school-”

“I don’t know, okay,” he says, growing frustrated. He decides to take it out on the vegetables he’s cutting up instead, and takes a deep breath before continuing. “She’s clearly embarrassed, so I’m trying not to make a big deal out of it, alright?” 

Azula goes quiet for a moment, considering his words. “Alright. I won’t push it.” 

“Thank you,” he says, relieved.

Azula purses a smile. “But, I am free this weekend. So if you want, I can try to see what we can do with it. You’re due for another haircut, too. Overdue, actually.”

She lifts a hand to examine the split ends of his long hair, and he playfully smacks it away. Azula has been cutting their hair for years. It’s not like Zuko can’t afford to take them to hairdressers, but he’s always been weird about letting strangers touch his hair, so when they were younger, Azula learned how to cut it for him. He knows it probably needs more than just a trim, but he’s not sure he’s ready for any major changes right now. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “I can do it myself.” 

Azula snorts. “Absolutely not. The last time you cut your own hair you somehow managed to give yourself a mullet.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad.” 

“The pictures I have saved in my phone beg to differ.” 

★

Zuko considers turning the car around and going home at least three separate times on the way to the group that night. He doesn’t even bother trying to make himself presentable before coming - his hair in a messy top knot and his dress shirt from work is wrinkled and unkempt. On any other day, he would’ve at least tried. But not today. Even blaring Beyonce in the car can’t drown out his thoughts. It’s been almost two months since Iroh passed. So why does he feel like he hasn’t made any progress? Why does it feel like things are getting worse?

Not only is he not sleeping well, he’s falling asleep at work and potentially jeopardizing his job for lack of productivity if that doesn’t stop. Izumi is seeing a counselor, but she’s still struggling to make friends at school and now...Zuko figures the rogue haircut is probably just a cry for attention, but he can’t figure out why. With the exception of being at school and his group twice a week, he’s with Izumi constantly. She’s his entire world, so there really isn’t a reason for her to feel like she doesn’t have his attention. He thinks back to what Jin said - _kids do this kind of thing all the time_. And sure, there are 5 year olds who are impulsive and act out - but that’s not Izumi. 

But her Papa Iroh is gone, and this is the first time she’s ever known someone who died. The thought breaks his heart - she’s so young, she shouldn’t have to think about this kind of thing yet. But Zuko knows he can’t protect her from everything, as much as he wants to. He can focus his attention on her more once his group is over. They only have two sessions left, anyway. Which is yet another thing that’s stressing him out. 

He feels like the group just started and now it’s almost over, and he’s not sure that he feels much different than when it started. Well no, _that’s not true,_ he thinks. He’s learned a few valuable things, and has even made some tentative friends - one in particular who he can’t seem to get his mind off of. 

Zuko wonders what he’s going to do in a week when the group is over, and he has no excuse to see Sokka as often. Was Sokka even serious about being his friend when it’s all said and done, or was he just trying to be nice? And who is Zuko kidding, anyway? In what world would Sokka be interested in him? The guy with a young child, a scarred face, and a mountain of baggage to boot. Yeah right. 

But even still, something in Zuko’s gut twists at the idea that Sokka would have lied to him about wanting to be friends - he doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who would do that, and Zuko has no reason to think he would. Since the day they met, Sokka’s been nothing but kind, helpful, and understanding - always trying to make him smile despite the heavy situation that brought them together. 

He also happens to be incredibly handsome, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Zuko pulls into the parking lot of the community center and releases his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. After the day he’s had, he’s really not in the mood to be here, but he pushes against the instinct to leave and makes his way to the gym anyway. He just has to get through this one - _in and out. Stay quiet when possible, and hope it goes quickly so you can just go home and wallow._

Sokka and Aang are already inside, along with a couple of the other group members. Toph is there too, carefully placing boxes of the ceramics they made in the previous class out on a table. Zuko watches as Sokka carries a stack of chairs over to their circle - clearly struggling with the task and wincing with every other step he takes. There’s a wrap around his knee that Zuko hasn’t seen before. Aang walks over to Sokka and offers to take a couple of the chairs from him, but Sokka declines, and continues to set the chairs up on his own. 

He places the last one with a satisfied smile, and then notices Zuko watching him. Sokka smiles and waves, but Zuko can’t bring himself to smile back. He simply nods, and then walks over to the refreshment table to pour himself a large cup of coffee. 

After a moment he feels a presence to his right, and already knows who it is. 

“I thought you didn’t like my coffee?” Sokka asks, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking at Zuko with an expectant smile. 

Zuko huffs. “I don’t. Just need it tonight.” 

Sokka must sense the edge in his voice, because his own softens. “Is uh, everything okay?” 

Zuko takes another sip, letting the black coffee burn on the way down. “No. Everything is not okay. Everything is…fucked.” 

Sokka turns and leans back against the table, crossing his arms. “Care to elaborate?” 

“Not really,” Zuko answers. He looks away from Sokka, because somehow he knows that if he looks into those blue eyes a second longer he’s going to share more than he planned tonight.

“I mean, that _is_ what we’re here for,” Sokka says. “To share the burden, so it doesn’t weigh on you so much.” 

Zuko laughs to himself quietly and shakes his head. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Excuse me?” 

Zuko sets his cup down and looks down at Sokka’s knee. The part of Zuko that actually cares about self preservation tells him to just shut up - to stop before he’s pushed it too far and can’t take it back. But the impulsive part of Zuko unfortunately likes to rear its ugly head when he’s in a bad mood, and tonight is no exception. 

“Why would I take advice from someone who doesn’t even do that?” he seethes.

Sokka’s jaw tenses for only a moment - and something flashes in his eyes that looks a lot like anger. “You know what?” he says as he stands up, his tone defensive, “I’m not even supposed to be at this group. I’m only here because Aang asked for my help, and I volunteered. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now and helping people grieve their loved ones isn’t exactly an easy feat. But...I keep coming back. I don’t have to, but I do.” 

There’s an unspoken _for you_ lingering in the air between them, and it’s suddenly all too much. 

Zuko’s pushed too hard and now he’s fucking up whatever _this_ is too, and the weight of everything he’s been struggling with ~~this year~~ today starts to finally catch up to him. 

He feels exhausted and on edge at the same time - his chest feels tight, and the room feels like it’s getting smaller despite the size of the gymnasium. Each inhale is harder than the last, his pulse quickening beneath his skin.

Sokka’s gaze turns to concern as Zuko lays his palms flat on the table and leans against it, trying to keep himself upright. “Hey, Zuko-” 

He notices Sokka extending a hand toward him and then retracting it - then hears Sokka call someone’s name - it’s muffled and hazy and Zuko can’t quite hear it past the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. After a moment, Sokka’s shadow is replaced with one taller and leaner. 

Aang’s voice carries over to him through the haze. “Zuko, it’s me - Aang. I think you’re having an anxiety attack. But you’re okay. I’m here.”

Zuko still feels like he can't breathe but he manages to lift his head enough to look at him - finding nothing but compassion and a gentle expression on Aang's features. Aang offers to help him sit down, and as Zuko sits and leans back, he feels some relief at the solid pressure of the wall on his back - holding him steady as Aang sits in front of him. Zuko keeps his eyes closed for what feels like forever, trying to steady his breathing. It’s been years since he’s had one of these, and he tries to remember what Iroh taught him to do. He opens his eyes and begins scanning the room for shapes, colors, objects - anything that he can instantly recognize and name to help distract his thoughts from the anxiety and feelings of impending doom. After a couple minutes of trying to take slower breaths, and doing his grounding exercise, he hears Aang speak up again. 

“Zuko, are you feeling any better?”

He nods, and notices then that they are the only two people left in the gym - Sokka must have led the others elsewhere to give them some privacy, which he’s grateful for. He doesn't like being seen like this by anyone - the only person he ever let near him when this happened in the past was Iroh. But for whatever reason, he doesn't feel worried about Aang. Maybe it's his kind demeanor, or his gentle presence that comforts him. Either way, Zuko's glad that he isn't completely alone right now.

“Do you think you’re ready to stand up?” 

He nods again and Aang stands to extend a hand to him, which he takes. As he steadies himself against the wall, Aang walks over to get him some water, and offers it to him with another gentle smile. 

“You already knew what to do,” he observes.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, taking a sip of the water and relishing the feeling of the cold liquid going down his throat and grounding him. “My Uncle...he taught me.”

Aang smiles again and nods. “You don’t have to stay tonight, if you don’t want to. You’re welcome to, obviously, but it’s okay if you want to go home, too.” 

Zuko thinks of the hurt in Sokka’s eyes when he was so rude to him before, and he really wants to stay and apologize - but at the same time, he feels absolutely exhausted, and just wants to go home. 

“I think I’m gonna go,” he says finally. “Thank you, Aang.” 

“It’s no problem,” Aang replies. “You sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Oh, wait before you go-” 

Aang hurries over to the table of ceramics and finds the box with Zuko’s name on it, and brings it back over to him. “Don’t forget this.” 

Zuko smiles (as much as he can right now) and takes it. “Thanks.” 

Aang holds the door open, and they start walking across the courtyard together. “You really don’t have to walk me out,” Zuko says, “I’m good.” 

“Our group went this way,” Aang says with a sly smile, pointing towards the main building.

Zuko tries not to blush from embarrassment. “Oh, right.” 

“But I would’ve walked with you anyway,” Aang adds. 

Deep down, Zuko knows that he means it. 

★

That weekend, Azula stands in the middle of her kitchen, one hand on her hip and the other motioning to the empty chair in front of her. “Come on, Izumi. It’ll be fine. I’ve cut your hair plenty of times.”

Izumi shakes her head and pulls her hat down further. 

Azula shoots a look of concern to Zuko, who frowns and then kneels in front of his daughter. He needs to think of some way to make Izumi feel more comfortable right now, and just goes with the first thing that comes to mind. “Would it help if I got a haircut, too?” 

Izumi grins and nods her head. Zuko smiles back and places a kiss to her forehead, obscured by the pink knit hat she’s refused to take off for the last 2 days. He moves to sit on the chair in front of Azula, who sighs and drapes a towel around his shoulders. 

“Just a trim, right?” she asks. 

He almost says yes, but then something stops him. The next thing he knows, he’s asking Azula to cut more than just a few inches.

Azula narrows her eyes as she runs a hand through his long hair. “Are you sure? That’s a pretty big change.” 

“Yeah, why not. If Izumi can have a new hairstyle, I can too," he says, winking at Izumi. 

She giggles back, and Zuko makes up his mind. “Okay, it’s settled then. Time for a change.” 

Azula sighs again and uses her long nails to start combing out his hair. “Alright. As long as you’re letting me do it, and not trying to do it yourself. Right Izumi?” 

Azula looks at Izumi pointedly, and Izumi nods in understanding. "Yes, Aunt Zula."

For a while, Zuko closes his eyes and lets his sister work, trying not to panic when he feels her pull it into a ponytail, and then promptly cut it off. The panic is replaced with relief when Azula takes the hair tie back out, and a weight that Zuko didn’t realize he was carrying is released as his hair falls naturally above his ears.

It hasn’t been this short in easily a decade - he decided to grow it out as a young adult and just never stopped. It’s going to be hard getting used to it again, but at the same time Zuko knows it’ll be lower maintenance than his long hair and he’s looking forward to having one less thing to deal with right now. It feels good to be in control of even one small thing like this even if the rest of his life feels like it’s in disarray. 

His eyes fall to Izumi, watching him from where she sits in the living room, and it clicks. 

The same reason he’s letting Azula cut his hair now is why Izumi felt the need to do it at school. She wanted to feel in control of something. She probably doesn’t realize that’s why she did it, but it’s okay. When he thinks about it, he realizes that most kids actually don’t have much control over their lives: when they go to sleep or what they eat, or where they go. Especially at school - there are rules both real and unspoken that are expected to be followed, and even if routines and consistency were good for children, Zuko also understands that it’s important to feel like you have some control, even over small things. He makes a mental note to talk to Jin about it later, and see if she has any suggestions.

Azula continues her work, carefully trimming the short layers one by one. “So Izumi,” she starts, “your dad tells me you have a new counselor at school. How’s that going?” 

“Mhm!” Izumi says, nodding. “I like Miss Jin a lot.” 

“Good. I’m glad.” 

Zuko smiles to himself, happy to see Azula’s continued effort to know his daughter. She wasn’t always interested in being an Aunt, but as Izumi got older and her personality started coming out, it was easier for Azula to build a relationship with her. She’s not overly affectionate, that’s just how Azula is - but Zuko knows that she’d do absolutely anything to help take care of Izumi in every other way, and that’s what’s most important to him. He feels lucky to have her in their lives, especially after everything the two of them went through together as kids. There was a time when he didn't think this kind of relationship with his sister was possible. But thankfully, they had Iroh to help them sort it out. 

“What about you, Daddy?” Izumi asks. “What are your new friends like?” 

Zuko closes his eyes and thinks about it for a moment. He thinks of Aang and Toph, and the other clients in the group, but ultimately (inevitably) his mind drifts to brown skin, and hair falling softly onto freckled cheeks. To eyes so blue they could give the clearest summer sky a run for its money. To a hand warm in his and keeping him steady. To a laugh that blossomed something bright and airy in his chest the first time he heard it, and hasn’t stopped since. 

To _Sokka_.

“They’re...pretty,” he says, so caught up in thinking about Sokka that he forgets to filter himself.

He still needs to apologize to him for what happened the other night. He thought about just stopping by the center the next day on his lunch break, but decided against it. He doesn’t want to seem desperate. But he knows that he needs to do it the next time he sees Sokka, which may be the last time. If Sokka was on the fence about actually being his friend before, there’s no way he’ll want to stay friends now. Not after Zuko was such a jerk to him and then left without apologizing, not to mention being an anxious mess-

He’s quite literally pulled out of his thoughts by Azula, who tugs on a strand of his hair. 

“They're...pretty?” she teases.

“What? Oh, I mean, uh-” he says, trying to catch himself. “They’re pretty nice.” 

“Pretty...nice. Got it.”

“Shut up, Azula.” 

Izumi’s head perks up. “Daddy, you can’t say that!”

Azula laughs, and tugs on another piece of his hair. “Thank you, Izumi. At least someone around here respects me.” 

“Watch it-” Zuko says, trying to hide his smile.

“You watch it! You’re not the one holding the scissors here, Zuzu.” 

★

  
Tuesday comes quickly, and Zuko spends most of the day worrying about how the last group is going to go, and trying to think of what to say to Sokka when he sees him for potentially the last time. The day was going okay so far though - he actually managed to get some work done this morning, so he decides to leave the office for his lunch break instead of working through it like he usually does. He contemplates just going home for a bit, but then before he can stop himself, he's driving towards the riverfront. 

There’s a small boardwalk with various local restaurants and shops. It's bustling with people, despite the drop in temperature today. Tucked at the end, overlooking the river, sits The Jasmine Dragon.

Zuko’s not sure what compelled him to come here today, after not visiting for over a year. When Iroh’s health took a turn for the worse, it just became too much for him to continue running the place. And Zuko couldn’t bring himself to go there if Iroh wasn’t the one to greet him at the door anymore. 

But today, for some reason, he feels an almost magnetic pull to the place, and he knows it's time to stop avoiding it. 

The bell above the door rings as he enters, and he smiles when Piandao meets his eyes from behind the counter. The older man steps out from the kitchen and makes his way over, pulling Zuko into a hug. 

“Zuko, it’s been so long.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Piandao stands back and pats him on the shoulder. “Well, come in, please. We have some catching up to do.” 

Zuko nods and finds an empty stool at the counter. As Piandao steps back into the kitchen and starts heating water for tea, Zuko takes a moment to look around the place. Not much has changed since he was last here. It's clear that Piandao has taken care to keep things the way Iroh had arranged it, with the exception of a few extra tables here and there, and a new shelving unit with various loose leaf teas and handcrafted tea pots and cups for sale. 

Most notably, Piandao has a framed picture of himself and Iroh hanging on the wall next to the kitchen, and Zuko smiles fondly when he sees it. He remembers the day he took it - the day that Piandao officially became owner of the place. Iroh still looked so healthy in that picture, but Zuko remembers that he’d had difficulty getting out of bed that morning from the pain. But he’d pushed through it, and from the wide smile on his face, you’d never know he was struggling so much. 

Zuko aches at the memory. 

Piandao sets a cast iron tea pot in between them and pours in the leaves, leaving it to steep. As it does, they spend a few minutes catching up. Zuko tells him about how Izumi’s growing up too fast, and Piandao laughs when Zuko shows him a picture of her unfortunate haircut from the other day. He inquires about Azula, and notes that Iroh was always so proud of her - that he was proud of them both.

Piandao looks over to Iroh’s picture then with a bittersweet smile. “I think of him every day,” he says. “Sometimes it’s like he’s still here.”

Zuko meets his eyes and tries to smile. “I know what you mean.” 

“He was a great man. And an even better friend.” 

There’s a lump in Zuko’s throat now, and he can feel the tears burning at the edges of his eyes, but he pushes it down. “Yeah, he was.”

Piandao pours some tea for them both, and Zuko’s grateful for the distraction. He takes a sip of it and hums. “This is good. Is it new?”

“That is a white tea with blueberry and lemon,” Piandao notes. “It’s light and sweet...just a little something I came up with one day. What do you think?”

Zuko smiles, his thumb tracing the edge of the cup. “I think Uncle would’ve loved it.” 

Piandao grins at that, and raises his cup in a toast towards Zuko. “To your Uncle. May his memory always be a blessing.”

Zuko nods and toasts with him, and then listens as Piandao recounts some changes they’d made to the store over the last year. They still sold all of the teas that Iroh had created, but added a few more for variety, including some local coffee. They’d also partnered with some local artisans who created handmade cast iron tea ware - beautifully crafted with intricate designs and styles. Zuko knows Iroh would’ve loved them. He thinks to himself that any of these things would make great gifts - and then he gets an idea.

“Do you guys still sell the Dragon of the West tea?” 

“Absolutely,” Piandao answers. “It’s always been one of our best sellers. Your Uncle really made something special with that one. We’ve got a few tins left, over on the shelf. Need to restock soon.” 

Zuko gets up and walks over to the shelf, examining the various teas available. Sure enough, he finds a tin of the tea he was hoping for, and brings it back over to the counter. “I’d like to buy this, for a friend.”

“Sure thing,” Piandao says. “Is that all?”

“Do you sell any of your coffee - like grounds or whole bean?” 

Piandao sighs. “You’re not the first person to ask that, but no. Unfortunately just the tea leaves are for sale for now.”

Zuko feels pretty confident that Sokka was the one who’s asked about the coffee before, especially after the way he’d sung its praises a couple of weeks ago. Zuko had hoped to give him some as a gift - as part of his apology for being such an asshole. But the tea will have to be good enough. 

Piandao rings up the tea, and ignores Zuko’s protests to also add the tea he just drank to the bill. “It’s on the house,” he says with a wink. “You know Zuko, there will always be a seat open for you here. I hope you know that you and Izumi are welcome any time.” 

Zuko smiles, feeling genuine gratitude at Piandao’s kindness. “Thank you. What about Azula?” 

Piandao laughs. “Azula comes in every week to play me in Pai Sho. We’ve been doing that for almost a year now. I’m surprised she never mentioned it to you.”

Zuko is, to put it lightly, _very_ surprised at this information. Azula never showed interest in being here, especially when they were both forced to work there as teens and young adults. He knows why she didn't tell him about it though - because he's been so avoidant of this place for so long and she probably just didn't want to bring it up around him for fear of upsetting him. “No,” he says, “She definitely didn’t mention it. But that’s great - that she reached out, I mean. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to do the same.”

"We all grieve in our own way," Piandao says. "But I do hope you'll start coming by more often. I've missed seeing you." He watches Zuko for a moment, and then holds up a finger as if to ask him to wait. He darts back behind the curtain, and Zuko hears him rummaging around for a minute until he emerges holding a small brown paper bag. He hands it over to Zuko, and in a hushed tone says, “If anyone asks, you didn’t get that from me.” 

Zuko looks at him curiously and then peeks into the bag, and smiles when he sees it's full of whole coffee beans. 

★

He arrives a bit early that night, with plans to find Sokka before the group starts. The door to his office is ajar but not quite open all the way, so Zuko knocks gently. 

From inside, he hears Sokka say, “Toph for the last time, I’m not playing Santa at the holiday party, so you can just shove it up your-”

Zuko opens the door then, and Sokka’s words fall short when he sees him. 

“Oh,” he says, almost breathless. “Zuko? What are you-?”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko blurts out, stepping into the room. “I mean - I want to apologize for the way I acted the other night.” 

Sokka’s eyes soften and he smiles to himself, laying his glasses on his cluttered desk before standing and making his way over to Zuko. “It’s okay.”

“No, it really wasn’t,” Zuko says. “I was exhausted from not sleeping well, I mean I never really sleep well, and anyway I was having a really bad day because I fell asleep at work and then Izumi cut her hair and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you...it was uncalled for.”

He realizes then that he’s rambling, but Sokka’s looking at him with something dangerously close to fondness. There’s a sparkle in his eye when he looks at Zuko's hair. “Looks like Izumi isn’t the only one who got a haircut.”

Zuko is positive that he’s blushing, but is powerless to stop it. “Oh, um. Yeah, I just needed a change, I guess.” 

“It looks nice,” Sokka says, voice soft and genuine.

Zuko meets his eyes and forgets why he was there in the first place, until Sokka nods towards the bag clutched in his hands. “What’s that?”

Zuko shakes his head to snap out of it. "Oh, it’s nothing...just something I picked up for you. Um...here.” 

Sokka takes the bag from him and pulls out the tea first to inspect it. “ _The Dragon of the West_ ,” he reads. “Sounds intense.” 

Zuko smiles, and scratches behind his ear. “It’s a tea that my Uncle made a few years ago. It’s good for inflammation...I thought maybe you’d want to try it. For your knee, I mean.” 

Sokka’s expression changes then, and Zuko can’t quite read it. He looks almost taken aback, like he’s surprised at the gesture, and then he clears his throat. “This isn’t nothing, Zuko. Did you -” he starts, his thumb tracing the Jasmine Dragon label on the bag. “Did you have to go there to buy this?” 

Zuko nods.

Sokka blinks and shakes his head. “That must have been hard to do. But thank you, that's...really thoughtful.” 

“It wasn’t so bad,” Zuko confesses. “I think I just needed an excuse to go back. I’d been putting it off for too long. So really I should be the one thanking you.”

Sokka nods in understanding and pulls out the bag of coffee beans next, and his eyes light up, his smile stretching wide across his face. “Is this what I think it is?” 

Zuko can’t help but smile back. 

Sokka eagerly opens the bag and takes a big sniff, his eyes rolling back as he sighs happily, and then looks at Zuko with amazement. “How did you get this? I’ve been trying to convince them to sell me their coffee for _months_.”

Zuko tucks his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Turns out being related to the former owner has its perks.” 

Sokka laughs, and Zuko feels something blossom in his chest again. 

★

The final group goes pretty smoothly, compared to the last one. First, they reflect back on some of the strategies they’d covered and Aang and Sokka help everyone make action plans for things to focus on once the group is over. Zuko makes sure to write down " _clean out Iroh’s house"_ even though he still really doesn’t want to. He knows he can’t avoid it forever. But maybe now that he's been through this group, he’ll be a little more prepared for it. 

For the last activity, Aang invites them to write a letter to their loved one. “It sounds silly, I know,” he says. “But it’s something that a lot of people find cathartic. It gives you the chance to say everything that you couldn’t while they were alive. Everything you need or want to say to them, this is your chance to say it.”

Sokka hands out clipboards with paper and pens, and some tissues to a couple of clients that have already started sniffling at the prospect. Aang tells them to take their time, and find a comfortable space to sit and write where they won’t be disturbed. Zuko takes his clipboard and finds a secluded corner of the gym, and sits down to start writing. 

He’s not really sure where to start at first, but after a minute or so, the words start to flow. 

> _Uncle,_
> 
> _You’ve been gone for almost 2 months now, but it feels like I was just sitting with you in your garden yesterday. I would give anything to be doing that with you right now._
> 
> _I’ve been asked to write you this letter and say all the things I couldn’t while you were alive, but I’m not even sure where to start, or how I could ever put into words what you did for me._
> 
> _I don’t think I truly knew what love was until you took us in. I know I was an ungrateful angsty teenager, but you saw past all of that. You saw potential in me when I couldn’t see it for myself, and I will always be grateful for that. I’m grateful that you were patient with me. I don’t think I would still be here if you hadn’t stepped in._
> 
> _You taught me what real honor is - and how to honor myself. How to be kind to myself. How to be kinder to others. How to be a real father._
> 
> _Izumi misses you, too. Thank you for always looking out for her. I know in some small way, you still are._
> 
> _Even Azula is opening up more. I know you’d be proud of her._
> 
> _As for me...I’m trying, Uncle. It’s been so hard, but I’m not giving up. I know that’s all you would ever ask of me._
> 
> _I miss you, every day. I love you._

He signs his name at the bottom and notices then that his cheeks are wet - at some point in writing that he started crying, but it isn’t painful the way it usually is. Aang was right - writing all of that down was cathartic. It still hurts some, because he misses his Uncle _so damn much_ , but it feels good to have been able to tell him some of these things, even if he’ll never actually hear them. 

After everyone is done, Aang wraps up the group by telling them that he’s proud of them all, for seeking help and sticking it out. He ends by giving some more information about upcoming groups, noting that there are other ways for them to get involved at the center in the future should they want to, and that they’ll always be there to offer support when needed. 

Zuko says his goodbyes to the other members as everyone starts to disperse, but lingers when he sees Sokka smile and walk his way. 

“You know,” Sokka says, “I was worried you weren’t gonna show tonight. I know this group hasn’t been easy...but I’m just glad you came back, after what happened.”

Zuko smiles as he shrugs on his coat. “I don’t give up that easily.”

Sokka smiles back, but then fidgets with his hands. “It’s just...I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened the other night. I was worried that I’d said something to upset you.” 

“No, no-” Zuko reassures. If anything set off his anxiety attack, it was his own inability to take care of himself. “It had nothing to do with you, I was just...having a rough day. Rough year, actually, but that’s besides the point.”

Sokka hums. “You were right, though.” 

“About what?”

“About me,” he says, looking down at his knee. “That I need to take my own advice more often.” 

“Oh,” Zuko winces at the memory. “Sorry...I mean, I know I was right, but I probably could’ve been nicer about it.” 

Sokka chuckles. “I’m not gonna argue with you on that one. But seriously though, thank you. And thanks again for the tea and stuff - I can’t wait to try it out.”

Zuko’s not really sure what to do at this point. Do they...exchange numbers? Hug? No, probably not. Sokka hasn’t offered any of that yet, and Zuko sure as hell isn’t going to ask right now. He’s still not even sure if Sokka actually wants to be his friend outside of this group.

“You’re welcome,” he says as he wraps his scarf around his neck. ”Consider it a parting gift.” 

Sokka looks confused at that, and then clears his throat. “About that - I was just thinking, maybe we could-”

He can’t finish the thought, because he’s interrupted by Aang shouting at him from the other side of the gym. “Bato’s on the phone for you, Sokka.”

Sokka sighs and then holds his palms up to Zuko. “I have to take that but I’ll be right back, okay? Just...don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay.” 

Sokka looks at him a second longer and then makes his way out of the gym towards the offices. Zuko feels flushed, his heart rate a little erratic. But it’s not like the anxiety he felt before, it’s more like excitement. Maybe he wasn’t wrong after all - maybe Sokka actually is interested in him, too. Even if it’s just as a friend. 

Zuko pulls out his phone to check the time, and notices that he has several missed calls from Azula. Whatever happiness he was feeling a moment ago vanishes as panic sets in, and he calls her back. She picks up on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. Izumi has a fever.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says. “How is she?”

“I mean, not great. We’re at your place now because I didn’t have any kids medicine. I gave her some of yours but the fever still hasn’t broken yet. She’s been asking for you.”

“Thanks. Okay, um-” He looks around to see if Sokka’s on his way back yet, but there’s no sign of him. Zuko sighs, turning back to his phone. “I’m leaving now. Be there soon.” 

The line goes silent as Azula hangs up, and once again, Zuko finds himself leaving without saying goodbye to Sokka. He’ll have to apologize for this too the next time he sees him. At least, Zuko _hopes_ there will be a next time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
> -Sorry this chapter was late, I've been working on some other things the last couple of weeks that took most of my energy/attention. But the plan moving forward is to update every 2 weeks until this thing is done :) Again, I have no idea how long this will be but I hope you'll stick around for the journey. 
> 
> \- I'm imagining Zuko's hair length now to be short, somewhere between book 2 and 3, for reference
> 
> \- Sorry for that ending - Aang cockblocked them, smh. I promise things will move forward in the next one!! I'm really excited for you to read it. 
> 
> -I know this chapter was all Zuko POV but you'll get some more from Sokka in the next one :) 
> 
> As always thank you for reading <3 Come find me on tumblr @ marriedzukka!


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko tries to navigate life after the grief group, and encounters some pleasant surprises.

We can make do with so little, just the hint  
of warmth, the slanted light.

\- Molly Fisk

★

Zuko wakes at an indiscernible hour. His eyes try to adjust in the darkness, the only thing giving him any indication of where he is being Izzy’s tank in the corner of the room. He sits up, wincing at the way his back aches after falling asleep in an awkward position on his daughter’s small bed, and hazily registers that he’s still wearing his clothes from earlier that night. He must have fallen asleep here after putting Izumi down for bed. She’d asked him to stay until she fell asleep, which he gladly obliged even though he would’ve done it anyway since she was sick. It was hard seeing her like that - he hates it when she gets sick. It makes him feel so helpless, knowing that she’s in any kind of pain and not being able to do anything about it but give her some medicine and just wait it out. 

He looks down to where Izumi sleeps soundly next to him, and takes a moment to lay the back of his hand to her forehead. It’s no longer hot to the touch, so her fever must have broken while she was asleep, and he’s grateful for that. He’s still keeping her home from school tomorrow though, because it’s the sensible thing to do, and will give her a chance to take a break and rest. 

Zuko could use that opportunity, too, if he’s honest with himself. He taps his watch and sighs at the time - **3:45am** , and quietly makes his way to his bedroom for an attempt at sleep. 

But of course that doesn’t happen. Once Zuko is awake, it’s usually hard for him to get back to sleep. So instead of laying there tossing and turning, he decides to just get up and get a head start on the day. He takes a quick shower and heads downstairs to make himself some breakfast, but then remembers that it’s 4:30 in the goddamn morning and he definitely doesn’t have the mental capacity to cook at all right now. So he settles for some tea instead. 

Zuko’s always been an early riser, even when he wasn’t having sleep issues. But even if it’s inconvenient at times, there’s something really peaceful about these early morning hours when the world is still and quiet, and the light outside is soft and welcoming.

He makes himself some green tea and settles onto the couch, letting the drink warm him up and relax him. Naturally his thoughts drift to Iroh, as they always do when he makes tea. He remembers other mornings not unlike like this one, when he first moved in with Iroh. His sleep was disturbed then, too - the adjustment to a life outside of his father's control was difficult, and as an angry and traumatized teenager he took a lot of his pain out on his Uncle. But Iroh stood his ground, and refused to give up on him. After arguments, Iroh would wordlessly make tea for him, fill a cup to the absolute brim with the stuff - and slide it his way with a gentle smile. 

_"Drink. You'll feel better,"_ he'd said. _"A cup of hot tea and a quiet morning do wonders for the soul."_

These memories don’t overwhelm Zuko today, for whatever reason. The only thing he can do right now is smile, because Uncle was right - tea always makes him feel better. 

Zuko takes a minute to run through a mental list of things he needs to do today. One, call his boss and tell him he’s taking a half day and working from home so he can take care of his sick kid. He’s not looking forward to that conversation, especially since he was starting to feel like he was on thin ice at work anyway. But at this moment he honestly doesn’t care. Izumi comes first, always. 

Speaking of Izumi, he needs to double check their medicine supply and make sure they have enough for both of them if he gets sick too. He probably won’t, but there’s no one here to take care of him the way he can for Izumi, so it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Iroh would’ve done it without being asked, but obviously that isn’t an option anymore. Azula isn’t exactly the nurturing type, but she did offer to stop by the store and get more medicine or food for them if needed. He remembers walking into the apartment last night to find Azula pacing in the kitchen, a look of distress on her face that she was doing a piss poor job of hiding. Then she berated him for laughing about it.

> _“What’s so funny? Your daughter is sick!”_
> 
> _“Relax. It’s just a cold, Azula. She’s had them before.”_
> 
> _Azula crosses her arms, frowning when she looks to where Izumi lays helpless on the couch. “But her fever-”_
> 
> _“-Will go away,” Zuko says, “thanks to the medicine you gave her. Really, Azula. She’ll be fine. She just needs to rest. I’ve got it from here.”_
> 
> _Azula sighs. “Alright, just. Text me if you need anything. You can’t exactly walk around the store with her like that.”_
> 
> _“No I think not.”_
> 
> _She cuts him a look, but lets it soften, and sounds only menially uncomfortable when she speaks again. “I mean it, okay? I don’t mind bringing you stuff if you need it...if she needs it.”_
> 
> _“I will.”_
> 
> _Azula nods and gathers her things to leave, and Zuko calls out to her before she slips out the door._
> 
> _“Yes?” she responds._
> 
> _He spares her the sappy thoughts running through his mind and just says “Thank you,” hoping that she can tell how much he truly means it. The corner of Azula’s mouth ticks up into a smile, and he knows that she does._

While he waits for Izumi to wake up, Zuko spends a quiet morning just drinking tea, prepping some food for the day, and setting up his workspace at the kitchen table. He eventually works up the nerve to call Zhao and let him know he’d be staying home - it goes better than Zuko thought it would, even if he can still tell that Zhao's annoyed with the idea. But there really isn’t anything Zuko can do about it - there's no one else who can watch Izumi on days like this. At least, not anymore. 

It doesn’t happen often, but there are times when Zuko wishes he wasn’t a single dad. He’s more than capable of taking care of Izumi on his own, and he generally doesn’t mind it - this is what he signed up for after all, when he asked Mai to be a surrogate for him all those years ago. At times like this though, it would be nice to have a partner to share some of the burden with. But for today, it’s just him and Izumi. So he makes do. 

When Izumi finally wakes up, he checks her temperature again and helps her get settled for the morning. She doesn’t have a huge appetite but she does her best, nibbling on some of the fresh fruit he cut up for her as she lays snuggled on the couch to watch a movie. She picks _Tangled_ this time, one of Zuko’s favorites out of the library of kid’s movies she makes him watch on a regular basis. He tries not to let it distract him as he works from the kitchen, but it’s not easy. He really doesn’t want to be doing any work right now, but he forces himself to focus and try to be at least a little productive today. 

When he opens his email, the first one he sees is from the Community Center - just a general one providing post-group resources and whatnot. Right, that was the other thing he needs to do today - figure out how to contact Sokka and apologize for running out on him. 

_Again_. 

Zuko sighs at the thought. Sokka had been so understanding last night and then Zuko just had to go and ruin it, _again_. It wasn’t his fault, but still, he can't help but feel bad. He needs to make this right somehow, but he’s not sure where to start, or if Sokka will even be as understanding this time around. Zuko can’t keep being flakey if there’s any chance of them staying friends. Sokka deserves better than that, he thinks. 

Zuko could go by the Center and just talk to him - no. That won’t work, not with Izumi feeling sick. He could just call the Center, but he’s not even sure what he’d say. He contemplates just sending an email but then quickly shakes it off, because there’s nothing that says _hey sorry I was an asshole can we try again because I kinda like you and would like to keep seeing you_ quite like a fucking email. 

Zuko sighs and decides to just give up on finding a solution right now. He’s too tired and doesn’t want to look or sound insane when he finally speaks to Sokka again. If the universe wants him to see Sokka again, then somehow it will work itself out.

Why he thinks that, he isn’t entirely sure. 

★

  
Life continues on. Two weeks pass and Zuko still hasn’t reached out to Sokka or worked up the courage to stop by the Center and see him in person. He doesn’t know why this is so hard - it shouldn’t be this hard. He should be able to just reach out to people and have normal fucking conversations. But for Zuko, nothing is ever really that easy. 

He’s fine, he thinks. _It’s fine_. He has other things to take care of right now - Izumi’s at home for winter break, and they get two whole weeks together. Zuko decides to do something he never does and takes an entire week off of work. It was hard at first, but after a couple of days of not having to report to Zhao, he was beginning to see the appeal of it. In the back of his mind, he knew Iroh would be proud of him for taking time for himself and Izumi. That was part of what pushed him to actually do it. 

His week off is wonderful - they watch tons of movies and Zuko teaches Izumi how to make tea the way Iroh did - carefully trying to explain each step in a way she'll understand. They bake cookies, and play with Izzy, and go on walks, and do tons of things that usually there just isn't enough time for. Zuko knows these days are precious - Izumi won't always be this young, and he wants to relish every moment he can. 

The transition back to work is harder than he anticipated. It had only been a week, but he’d let his sleep schedule (or whatever poor excuse for a sleep schedule he has) go to shit, and he and Izumi ended up sleeping in late on multiple occasions. But this week, he’s working from home again and trying not to get frustrated with himself when he can’t get as much work done as usual. Izumi wasn’t sick anymore and her energy was back up to normal, so it was harder to actually work and watch her at the same time when she wasn’t just laying on the couch. To put it simply, Zuko is exhausted.

When Azula comes over for dinner one night, she doesn’t let him off the hook. Izumi retreats to her room after they eat, and as Azula helps him clean up, she says pointedly, “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks, Azula. Means a lot,” Zuko answers.

“No need to get snippy,” she says, taking a dish from him to wipe down with a dry towel. “Just pointing it out. I’m...concerned.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “You’re concerned. For me.” 

He knows this is hard for her, to express any kind of vulnerability, but he isn’t in a great mood and doesn’t really feel like making it easy for her tonight.

Azula shakes her head and starts putting dishes away. “Yes, Zuko. Believe it or not, I care.” 

Zuko huffs to himself, but doesn’t respond, his attention turning to scrubbing down a particularly nasty casserole dish. 

“You’ve been like this all night,” she notes. “Longer than just tonight, actually. Easily irritated and all pissy. It’s honestly starting to get old.”

“You know,” he says, trying to stamp down the tension he feels in his shoulders all of a sudden, “For someone who cares you’re doing a shitty job of saying so.” 

“That’s not fair,” she sighs. “I'm just trying to help. I wouldn’t lie to you, Zuko.”

Zuko lets the dish he’s holding fall into the sink. “Is that so?” he says, turning to face his sister. “Then why didn’t you tell me you’ve been visiting the Jasmine Dragon for the last year?”

Azula shuts the cabinet above her with a distinct _thud_. “You know damn well why I didn’t say anything about it, Zuko. I...couldn’t. Any time it was brought up around you, I could tell it upset you.” 

Zuko closes his eyes and sighs. He did know this, and he knows it isn’t fair for him to be taking his anger out on Azula, but she makes it too easy sometimes. 

“Plus,” she adds, “why wouldn’t I go back? We practically get treated like royalty there.” 

Zuko smirks at that even if he doesn’t want to. He goes back to cleaning dishes, and they settle into a quiet rhythm. After a couple minutes, Azula speaks again, all of the edge gone from her voice.

“I like being there,” she says. “It...reminds me of him, when he was happy. Just because I wasn’t as close with Iroh as you were, doesn’t mean I didn’t care.” 

This confession almost knocks the wind out of Zuko - he’s never heard Azula speak so openly about anything, let alone their Uncle. He’d been so concerned with himself and his own grieving that he didn’t even stop to think about how Azula was dealing with it all. Now he _really_ feels like an asshole. 

When he looks at her, he can swear he sees the ghost of a tear trying to escape her eye, but she keeps it down. Despite that, he pulls her into a hug. And despite her usual aversion to it, Azula holds him back. 

After a moment they part, and she pushes him playfully away. “Alright, enough. I’m fine, you big sap.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For acting like a jerk. You’ve done so much to help me and Izumi the last couple of months, and I appreciate it. I don't know what we'd do without you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, and begins pouring a couple glasses of red wine for them both.

Zuko takes the glass from her with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well,” he confesses.

“Maybe you should join a gym or something,” Azula suggests. “Exercise and tire yourself out. Or you could start dating again and get laid. That always works for me.”

Zuko practically chokes on his wine, and Azula smiles into the next sip of her own.

★

  
He joins a gym. 

He figures Azula was probably right - he needs to do something to expend some of his restless energy and maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to sleep better at night. So he signs up for a monthly membership to some local gym and makes plans to go twice a week when Azula is available to watch Izumi. Joining a gym was the easier option of the two she’d presented him with. It was either this or start dating again, and even if Zuko was having moments of wishing he wasn’t single, dating was a different beast altogether. He really isn’t sure if he has the capacity to deal with all of that right now on top of everything else. Dating is excruciating to begin with, and he doesn’t exactly have the ability to have one night stands anymore now that he has a kid to take care of. Not to mention, he's kind of a mess right now, and who would want to get involved with that?

He’d tried dating some when Izumi was much younger, but most guys were not interested in taking on both him and a kid. So at some point, Zuko just gave up on the dating game and turned all his focus to taking care of Izumi instead. 

His first couple of sessions at the gym are...rough, to say the least. It had been too long since he was able to get in full workouts like this, and his sore muscles afterwards are proof of it. But despite that, he's enjoying himself. Getting an hour or so to himself is priceless, and he finds himself looking forward to going again after just a couple of visits. He likes the gym he’d found - it was small but the staff were nice, and no one bothered him while he was there. 

At least, usually that was the case. 

He’s been on the treadmill for about 15 minutes now, trying to get in some cardio before heading out for the day. He turns up the music in his headphones, losing himself in the rhythms of his feet hitting the spinning rubber and the music pounding in his ears. He pushes himself a little further today than the last couple of times, and pretty soon he’s slowing down the treadmill to a complete stop. He closes his eyes and sighs, laying his arm over the front of the machine and resting his head in the crook of it for a minute while he catches his breath. The music comes to a stop too, and before he can mess with his phone to play another song, a voice grabs his attention. 

“Zuko?”

He lifts his head to see none other than Sokka Kunuk, standing in front of him. 

Sokka, who’s wearing a crop top t-shirt and gym shorts that don't even reach his knees, and a wide smile on his face. Sokka, who he hasn’t seen or spoken to in almost a month. Sokka, who he ran out on and hasn’t bothered to try to contact since. 

Zuko loses himself in it for just a moment - not even realizing that his eyes have landed precariously on the exposed skin of Sokka’s ribs, until Sokka clears his throat and speaks again. 

“Uh, Zuko?”

His eyes snap up to meet the blue staring back at him with amusement. “Uh, hey,” he manages to choke out. 

“It’s been awhile,” Sokka says, crossing his arms. 

Zuko sighs and hangs his head for a moment. “I’m sorry. About before, I didn’t mean to-” 

Sokka’s bright smile catches him off guard. “It’s fine, I’m just glad to see you.” 

Zuko blinks at him a moment, trying not to let his mind wander about what that could possibly mean, before stepping down from the treadmill. “My daughter got sick,” he says. “I had to leave in a hurry.” 

Sokka’s smile falls a little. “Oh. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just had a fever. All better now.” Zuko’s touched by Sokka’s concern, and simultaneously shocked that he isn’t more angry with him right now. He should be. Why isn’t he?

Sokka nods and Zuko is hyper aware of his presence next to him as they walk towards the locker room. He wills himself not to look over when Sokka speaks again, his voice calm and careful. “And...what about you?”

“What about me?” Zuko asks, trying to sound nonchalant even as he feels the weight of Sokka’s eyes on him. As if he looks away, somehow Zuko will disappear again.

“I mean, it’s been what, a month since the group ended?” Sokka says.

“Something like that.” 

“ _So_ , how are you?” 

“I’m...fine.” 

He meets Sokka’s eyes again - _damn, he'd almost forgotten how blue they were._ Sokka holds the locker room door open for him, and he looks utterly unconvinced. But he doesn’t press it anymore, and Zuko’s grateful. 

Zuko’s also grateful for the fact that Sokka’s locker is on the other side of the room, because if Zuko has to be near him while he changes, he thinks he might just die on the spot. Not that Sokka had been hiding much, anyway - wearing a fucking crop top in the middle of January, _idiot_ -

Sokka’s voice carries over to him and pulls him from his thoughts. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” 

“Oh, well. Guess you just weren’t paying attention, then,” Zuko quips, pulling his shirt over his head and exchanging it for a clean one. 

His smile fades when his head pokes through and he realizes that Sokka’s standing next to him now, leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed. He’s already changed and let his hair down too, and it falls softly at his cheeks as he smiles. “I think I would’ve remembered,” he says, voice dangerously on the edge of flirting. 

Zuko ducks his head into his locker - definitely just to grab his stuff and not to hide the blush on his face. 

They walk to the front desk together, and as Zuko signs himself out, Sokka reaches across the counter to grab a sticky note from the receptionist's desk. The guy working gives him a confused look and starts to protest, but Sokka just winks at him and grabs a pen too before scribbling something down. 

“What are you doing?” Zuko asks.

Sokka peels off the note and hands it to Zuko. “Giving you my number before you can run away again.”

Zuko ignores the way his heart lurches when he brushes Sokka’s fingers to take it. “Oh,” he breathes. 

_Oh_.

Sokka sticks one hand in a pocket as the other scratches behind his ear. “I wanted to give it to you at the last group, but then you left before I could. And I haven’t seen or heard from you since then, so I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me to. Hopefully I’m not stepping out of line, here.” 

Zuko speaks before he can stop himself. “I did,” he says, tearing his eyes from the note to look at Sokka. “I mean, I wanted you to.” 

Sokka beams at him, sighing in relief. “Good. Well now you have it.”

Zuko smiles to himself, and starts to head towards the door. “I um, better get going. Gotta pick up Izumi on time or-”

“Let me guess,” Sokka says. “Azula’s going to kill you?”

Zuko can’t help but laugh. “Exactly.”

Sokka holds the door open for him again - _is he always this nice?_ \- and says, “You know, I’d love to meet your sister. She seems fun.” 

“ _Fun_ isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe, Azula,” Zuko replies. “But sure...I’d, um. I’d like you to meet her too. She doesn’t think I have any friends.” 

Sokka laughs, his smile brighter than the winter sun above them. “Well she’s definitely wrong about that.” 

★

  
That weekend, Sokka is woken up by someone poking his cheek. 

“Get up, Sokka. It’s almost noon.”

His sister’s voice cuts through his sleepy haze and he groans, turning away from her and covering his head with his blanket.

“Oh no you don’t,” she says, ripping the blanket off of him. “I know you’re sad that Suki doesn’t live here anymore, but you can’t just do nothing all day. It's been weeks, Sokka.” 

Sokka rubs at his face and groans again. “I never should’ve given you a spare key.” 

“Well, too late,” Katara says. “Come on, get up. Let’s go shopping. You need a couch and I can’t keep sitting on the floor when me and Aang come over for movie night.” 

If there’s anything that could get him out of bed right now, it’s the promise of shopping, so despite the fact that he actually wouldn't mind just lounging around all day, he agrees.

Katara leaves the room so he can get dressed, and when he emerges a few minutes later, she whines at his choice of attire. “What the fuck, Sokka? It’s like 30 degrees outside.”

Sokka looks down at his crop top t-shirt and shrugs. “It’s laundry day. This was the only thing that was clean.” 

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. "Let’s go.”

Usually shopping is fun for Sokka, but they’ve been looking at sofas for almost an hour now and he’s no closer to finding one he likes. None of them feel right. He wishes Suki were here to help. 

He plops himself down onto one of the showroom couches and sighs. “This is hopeless.”

Katara sinks in next to him. “Literally any of these couches would be fine, Sokka. Just pick one.” 

“I’m not happy with any of these.”

“You’re never happy.” 

“I’m sorry, okay!” he says, trying to keep a playful tone despite how sad he feels all of a sudden. “I’m just not good at this stuff. Suki always picked out our furniture.”

“That was probably for the best. She has much better taste than you.”

He looks away from her and lays his head against the back of the sofa, training his eyes on the ceiling above. “Shut up.”

Katara follows suit, looking up with him. “Have you made any plans for the spare room yet?” 

“Not sure,” he says. “I was thinking maybe an art studio. Toph keeps complaining that my stuff takes up too much of her wall space at work.”

“I think that’s a great idea,“ she says, and then her voice grows softer. “You don’t have to live alone if you don’t want to. I mean, you can move in with me, if you want. My place is bigger than yours, anyway.”

Sokka already knows that she won’t be living there much longer, because Aang is planning to propose to her soon, so that’s out of the question. But he obviously can’t tell her that or Aang might actually kill him. 

“No way,” he says. “I’d rather not know what you and Aang get up to when you’re alone.”

He laughs when Katara shoves his shoulder. “Plus,” he continues, “what if _I_ want to bring someone home?”

Katara winces. “Gross.”

“Exactly! Now you know how stupid you just sounded.”

“Alright, fine,” she says. She stands and extends a hand towards him to help him up, and Sokka takes it. They walk around a little longer, and Sokka’s still not able to pick a sofa he likes. Katara tries to steer the conversation elsewhere. 

“Have you thought about seriously dating again?” she asks. “I know it’s been awhile, but maybe it’s a good time now that you’re on your own.”

“Not really,” he answers, knowing that it’s only partially true. He hasn't seriously dated anyone since Suki, and he was mostly fine with that. He loves Suki, and would do absolutely anything for her, but at the end of the day they were just better as friends. She's found happiness with Yue and Sokka's over the moon with joy on their behalf - and never lets them forget that he's the one who introduced them. But other than Suki, he really hasn't dated much. A few flings here and there over the last couple of years, but nothing crazy. He'd been so busy with grad school and starting his job at the Center that there just honestly wasn't time for anything more than that. He's always felt a little inadequate anyway, and has a hard time imagining that anyone would take him exactly as he is - someone who would be willing to take care of him when he needs it, even if he doesn't like accepting help. He's working on it, though. Maybe in time, it'll be easier to let people in like that. 

His thoughts immediately go to amber eyes and a red scar and timid smiles - but they’re just friends. At least, he’s pretty sure they are. It’s hard to tell with Zuko sometimes. Plus, he doesn’t even know if Zuko’s attracted to guys or not. Sokka had given him his number though, so the ball is in Zuko’s court, and now he just has to wait. A thought runs through his mind that alarms him, yet settles into his chest like a truth he didn’t realize he knew - _Zuko could be the kind of person worth waiting for_.

Katara’s voice rips him from his thoughts. “I could set you up with someone, if you want. You know, Jet is single-”

“Absolutely not,” Sokka says, cutting her off. “No offense, but I’d rather eat my own foot.” 

Katara laughs. “I figured. But seriously though, I think it would be good for you, Sokka. You should put yourself out there.” 

Sokka shrugs. “We’ll see.”

They look around for a few more minutes, but quickly give up. “If you’re not gonna pick something," Katara says, "we should probably just go.”

“Sorry, I’m just not really in the mood for this today.” 

“It’s okay. I understand.” 

Sokka feels a little bad at the dejected look on Katara’s face. He loves his little sister, and knows that she’s just trying to help. But just because he can’t pick out a sofa to save his life, doesn’t mean they have to stop hanging out right now.

“Wanna get some coffee or something?” he asks.

Katara’s eyes light up. “Sure. Maybe you can take me to that place you’re always raving about.” 

★

It’s late afternoon now, and the Jasmine Dragon is pretty busy. They order their drinks and sit at the counter to wait, and Sokka only vaguely registers the sound of a bell ringing as someone opens the door. But the sound of someone calling out the name _Zuko_ catches his attention _real_ quick. His head snaps up fast enough for Katara to look concerned, but he doesn’t explain before trying to find the source of the sound.

He turns to look and sure enough, there’s Zuko, and holding his hand is a precious little girl, who lets it go to run and greet the man who was working behind the counter a moment ago. He watches Zuko smile softly at the sight, and then freeze when his eyes finally catch up with Sokka’s.

Sokka doesn’t look away, but mutters to Katara as he gets up from the stool, “Be right back.”

He walks over to Zuko, sticking both hands in his pockets. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” he says, taking note of the way Zuko tries to hide a smile. He’s also starting to think that maybe Zuko _is_ attracted to guys, solely based on the fact that he let his eyes linger on Sokka’s exposed stomach just a second too long before looking back up at him.

"You do know it's January, right?" he asks. 

Sokka smiles and looks down at his shirt. "What, you don't like it?"

Zuko smiles and shakes his head - Sokka can't tell if he's blushing from just being outside or not.

“You know," Zuko says, "if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me.” 

“Not fair," Sokka says. "You already knew that I liked it here...maybe I just really like coffee. Or maybe you're the one following me. Did you ever consider that?” 

What he’d like to say is, _maybe I like you, and hoped there would be a slim chance of this exact situation happening when my sister asked to come here_. But no, his choice of coffee place is only because he likes the coffee here, and not at all because he knew Zuko had started coming here again. That would be ridiculous. 

“Plus, I’m here with my sister,” Sokka adds, pointing over to where Katara is watching them with rapt interest. He waves her over and then introduces them, making a point not to make extended eye contact with Katara, who always seems to know his secrets before he does. She has a fucking sixth sense about this kind of thing - no one is safe from her observant eye.

Zuko smiles genuinely at her though, and after a moment looks away. Sokka follows his line of sight back to the young girl he came in with, who now sits perched at the counter, talking with the older man. “Is that-?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says with a smile. “That’s Izumi.” He looks unsure, but continues. “Do you...want to meet her?” 

The fact that he’s okay with Sokka meeting his daughter says enough, and Sokka smiles wide. “I’d love to.” 

They walk over, and Zuko leans against the counter next to her. “Izumi, I want you to meet one of my friends.” 

Izumi spins around on the stool as Sokka steps up to her and extends a hand. “I'm Sokka. It’s very nice to finally meet you, Izumi.” 

Izumi smiles timidly and then shakes his hand when Zuko nods to encourage her. But his smile quickly fades when Izumi opens her mouth to speak.

She looks at Zuko and smiles. “Daddy, you were right - he _is_ pretty!” 

Katara chokes on a laugh behind him, and Sokka immediately looks to Zuko, whose face has gone _distinctively_ red. 

Zuko clears his throat and shakes his head. “No, Izumi. I said my friends were pretty _nice_. **Pretty nice**.”

Sokka watches him with amusement. He can't really unpack all of that right now so he tucks it away in his mind for later inspection. Izumi looks confused now, and as much as Sokka would love to continue smiling at how red Zuko’s gotten - he decides to take the conversation elsewhere and turns back to Izumi.

“Cool backpack,” he says. “I love Sailor Moon, too.” 

Izumi’s eyes light up. “You do?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, smiling wide and turning to Katara. “We went as characters from it for Halloween last year.” 

Zuko seems more at ease now, and smirks. “Let me guess, you were Tuxedo Mask?” 

Sokka scoffs. “Nah, that was Katara. I went as Sailor Mercury. I mean, water and ice powers, the brains of the operation, and super cute? She’s the whole package.” 

Katara pulls out her phone and shows Zuko a picture - sure enough, there’s Sokka, posed next to her and dressed in the classic school girl superhero uniform, with a blue wig and a skirt _much_ too short for him. Zuko's eyes meet Sokka’s. “That’s really...something.” 

He laughs then, light and easy going, and Sokka thinks he would happily drown in the sound of it. 

“I like Sailor Mercury, too,” Izumi interjects. 

Sokka smiles down at her. “You have great taste, Izumi.” She beams at him, and Sokka starts to realize why Zuko talks so highly of her - she’s practically sunshine personified. 

From the other end of the counter, the older man calls out their drink orders. “That’s us,” Katara says. “We better get going.” 

Sokka doesn’t want to go just yet, but he can’t say as much without making himself more obvious than he probably already has. They say their goodbyes to Izumi and Zuko, and if Sokka lingers on Zuko’s a moment longer, Katara doesn’t say anything about it. She also doesn’t say anything as they walk out, even though Sokka knows she can see the way he can’t stop smiling. 

★

Two days later, Sokka sits in Aang’s office, watching snow begin to gently fall as they work together to call clients about the cancelled programs for the night. The weather report was calling for a couple inches of snow today, but Sokka figures it’ll probably be fine, and everyone is making a big deal out of nothing. Half the time, the weather reporters are wrong anyway, and when they say they’ll get a couple inches of snow, it never ends up being more than a dusting. He hates cancelling plans for no reason, but understands that safety of their clients and staff are most important. So for a while, he helps Aang work through the client directory. But at some point, his own phone rings. It’s from a number he doesn’t recognize, but he picks up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um. Sokka? It’s Zuko.” 

Aang sees the smile spread on his face and tilts his head curiously, but Sokka ignores him. “Zuko! Of course. How’s it going?” 

“Not bad. Hey, what are you doing right now?” 

“Talking to you.”

He can practically see Zuko’s smile through the phone, and wishes very badly that he could see it for real. He realizes that he might just get that wish when Zuko speaks again. 

“I _mean_ are you free right now.” 

“Depends. Who’s asking?” 

“I was just wondering,” Zuko sighs, “if you wanted to grab a coffee or something? I have a long lunch break today and we’ve got some time before the weather gets worse and-” 

Zuko keeps rambling on, and Sokka feels lighter than air.

“Absolutely," he says finally. "I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love supportive little sisters in this house!
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always. Hopefully this chapter didn't make anyone cry lol. Things will keep moving forward for these two, so stick around! I have a lot of fluff planned, so if that's your jam, you're in for a treat. You deserve it after all the sad shit I've made you read so far :) 
> 
> Next update in 2 weeks! Get ready for some Sokka and Izumi bonding :)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @marriedzukka, if you want :)


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko tries to get to know Sokka a bit better, but an incoming snowstorm threatens to get in the way of his plans.

“A song from another time survived with me.

It follows me wherever I go.”

— Dunya Mikhail

★

“Sozin, am I boring you?”

Zhao’s harsh voice catches Zuko’s attention from the other end of the table. Zuko’s eyes snap back from where he’d been watching the snow fall outside, drifting quietly and softly past the conference room window. He sits up a little straighter, and mentally kicks himself for zoning out again. “No, sir.”

Zhao eyes him with suspicion, but nods and continues on with the meeting. Zuko tries to pay attention to the rest of it, but he’s tired, both literally and in the much more general sense of the word. He’s been doing okay at work, but even if he’s trying his best, some things are starting to slip. Morning meetings just happen to be the first victim. 

Despite how poorly he usually sleeps and what little energy he has in the mornings, he has to wake Izumi up on time for school, help her get dressed, give her breakfast, and get her there on time. But Zuko’s happy to do it, because he loves her - that, and he’s honestly not sure what the last couple of months would have been like if he didn’t have Izumi depending on him to get out of bed every day. 

This morning, she’d been particularly energetic and excited about the weather, despite Zuko trying to convince her that it probably wasn’t going to snow that much and would melt by the end of the day, as it always does. But Izumi didn’t care what he had to say - she just wanted to play in the snow, and was fighting him tooth and nail to get ready for school on time. Somehow they managed it, but it was cutting it close, and he’d almost been late to work because of it. He doesn’t blame her, though. He'd love to just take the day off and play in the snow, too - but nothing is ever that simple. At least not for Zuko. 

He does his best to keep his head up for the remainder of the meeting, vaguely registering Zhao demanding that their monthly reports be turned in by the end of the day. When he’s supposed to get that done between calls with clients and catching up on paperwork, Zuko isn’t sure, and he groans at the realization that he’ll probably have to work through lunch again to finish everything. What a day this is turning out to be, he thinks. First the morning was stressful, he got called out in a meeting, and now he’s swamped with work that he doesn’t really have the time or energy to do.

Zuko desperately wishes that things could just be easy for once, but also knows that he’s never been that lucky. This belief is encouraged when he finally makes it back to his office, and the secretary tells him there’s a call waiting for him from Izumi’s school. 

“Hi, Mr. Sozin? It’s Jin Temura.”

Zuko inwardly groans and expects the worst, because so far, that’s all these calls have been for. He tries to keep his voice calm. “Yes, it’s me. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, actually,” Jin says. “I just wanted to let you know that Izumi’s been making progress the last couple of weeks.”

Zuko can’t help his audible sigh of relief. Maybe his luck is turning around for once. “That’s...that’s great. How so?”

“Well, to start, she hasn’t needed as many breaks every day. She went from having 2 or 3 to maybe 1, if that.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” Zuko asks.

“I believe so. Ms. Lee says that she’s seen Izumi using a couple of the strategies that I taught her while she was in class, and because she’s doing that, she’s been able to regulate her emotions on her own more than before - to the point that she doesn’t necessarily need the break to get there.”

“That’s good to hear. Really good, actually. Thank you, Jin.”

“It’s no problem,” she says, and Zuko can practically see her gentle smile curve around the words. “As proud of her as I am,” she continues, “I still think it’s best to continue services for the time being. Grief is strange, and even when progress is made, it can come rearing back. I want to make sure she’s truly ready before we take any support away.”

Zuko understands that feeling all too well. He hates the thought of it happening to Izumi, but at least he’s already put these supports in place for her so that when (if) it does inevitably happen, they’ll be ready. 

“I appreciate that,” he says. “And do you have any more thoughts about what we talked about?”

“Oh - yes,” she confirms. “I definitely agree that Izumi needs ways to feel in control right now. That’s another part of the reason why we’re letting her continue services, honestly. She knows that she can ask for breaks whenever she needs it, and I always let her choose what activity to do when she takes them. It’s a simple thing, really, but at this point she knows that she can trust the process,” she says. “I don’t want to take those choices away from her right now. She’s making progress, and I want it to do what I can to help keep her on that path.”

After the morning he's had, Zuko really needed this, and he feels a surge of gratitude. “I’m glad she has you in her corner, Jin.” 

“I can say the same for you,” she says. “Izumi talks about you all the time.”

“All good things, I hope.”

Jin laughs. “Only good things, I promise.”

★

When he hangs up the phone, Zuko is feeling better than he has all week. Just knowing that Izumi is doing better is enough to set his mood right, and he decides then and there to not let his shortcomings at work ruin his day. He had planned to work through lunch, but on second thought - maybe he doesn’t need to. He definitely doesn’t want to. 

For the rest of the morning, Zuko flies through his client meetings - riding the high as long as he can until lunch. His plan is to go grab some coffee, and then come back and do his report. It’s a perfect plan. He’s got this.

But as he gets ready to leave, he spots it sticking out of his wallet - the sticky note with a hastily scribbled number that Sokka had given him a few days ago. He’s wrestled with himself since then over when to actually contact Sokka - trying and failing multiple times to write a text that didn’t make him sound insane. It wasn’t that long ago that he was idly hoping the universe would find some way to bring them together - and then he ended up running into Sokka twice over the last week. But Zuko knows instinctively that their lucky streak won’t last forever, so he figures it’s probably his turn to initiate things now.

He’s got the next hour free for lunch, so why not try?

Zuko has no plan when it comes to this - to Sokka. He’s attracted to him, he likes his company, but...there’s still so much that Zuko doesn’t know about him. He’s just not used to having friends anymore, so if Sokka’s done anything to hint he’s interested in being more than that, Zuko’s not sure he’d be able to decipher it. Maybe Sokka is just one of those people who’s nice to everyone, and there’s nothing special about this at all. Either way, Zuko knows that he needs to try a little harder when it comes to making (and keeping) friends, so he dials the number as he walks outside before he can talk himself out of it.

He’s in his car and pulling out of the lot when Sokka finally picks up, the sound of his voice filling the car through Zuko’s speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Hi, um. Sokka? It’s Zuko.” 

There’s a pause before Sokka speaks again. “Zuko! Of course. How’s it going?” 

Zuko tries his best to keep it casual. “Not bad. Hey, what are you doing right now?” 

“Talking to you.”

Despite himself, Zuko smiles at that. “I _mean_ are you free right now.” 

“Depends. Who’s asking?” 

Well - that’s not definitely not fair. Sokka is not making this easy, and somehow Zuko knows that he’s just trying to encourage him to be more direct. He takes a deep breath, and decides to just go for it - it’s not like he’s asking Sokka on a date or anything. It’s just coffee. With a friend. Nothing more. 

“I was just wondering,” he sighs, “if you wanted to grab a coffee or something? I have a long lunch break today and we’ve got some time before the weather apparently gets worse so maybe we could just hang out for a bit and catch up. Plus, Piandao has this new tea he wants me to try and-”

He realizes he’s been rambling a little bit when Sokka cuts him off. “Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”

Zuko breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, good. Meet me outside in 5 minutes.” 

When Zuko pulls up to the community center, Sokka’s already standing there waiting for him, smiling wide with his hands tucked into his winter jacket. There’s a rush of cold as he opens the door and gets in, and Zuko fights back the urge to wipe some of the snowflakes out of his hair. 

“You didn’t have to pick me up,” he says. “I could’ve met you there.” 

“It’s fine,” Zuko answers, shifting into gear and pulling out of the lot. “My office isn’t too far from here, and I was already out, so it was just easier this way. Hope that’s okay with you.” 

“Yeah, all good. I just hope you know how to drive in the snow.”

“Well, at least you’re dressed for the weather for once,” Zuko quips back, remembering Sokka's affinity for wearing crop tops in the middle of January.

“Hey I didn’t hear you complaining before.”

Zuko can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “That’s not...I didn’t mean-”

He’s cut off by Sokka’s laugh - light and carefree. “I’m just messing with you, man.” 

★

  
They make it to the Jasmine Dragon intact, and Piandao greets Zuko with a hug as usual. Zuko formally introduces him to Sokka, and bites back a laugh at Sokka’s shocked expression when Piandao pulls him in for a hug, too. “Any friend of Zuko’s is a friend of mine,” Piandao says, giving Sokka a pat on the shoulder. “Come in, come in,” he continues, ushering them forward. “I need someone to test that new tea blend I was telling you about.”

They take their places at the bar and Piandao pours a couple cups, eagerly awaiting their reaction. Zuko peeks over at Sokka, and is amused to find him smiling back as he takes a sip.

“It’s really good,” Sokka says. “Is that...jasmine and...peach? There’s something else too but I can’t quite place it.”

Piandao’s eyes light up. “Very perceptive, Sokka. That would be the pink peppercorn - I only added a little bit, just enough for a little punch of something extra. I’m thinking of calling it ‘The Flying Bison,” and waves his hand dramatically as if describing something only he can see.

“I don’t get it,” Zuko says. 

Piandao deflates a bit, but waves him off. “I was just trying to think of something creative, like your Uncle used to do. He always had a gift for that.” 

Zuko was feeling really good, but at the sudden mention of his Uncle, he can feel the way his mood drops slightly. He tries to return a smile, but can’t quite force it. Thankfully, Sokka gets their attention before Piandao can question it.

“Well, I like it,” he says confidently. “The tea and the name. It’s unique.”

Piandao smiles and bows slightly to him. “Thank you, Sokka.” Turning back to Zuko, he nods toward Sokka and says, “Keep this one around, he’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

(Okay, maybe Zuko is capable of smiling right now). 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and doesn’t acknowledge the curious look on Sokka’s face. “Thanks for the tea, but we can’t stay long. I have to head back to work eventually.” 

Piandao scoffs at that. “In this weather? I doubt it. You might as well just go home.”

“Do you really think it’ll be that bad?” Sokka asks. 

“Weather report said we’re in for a doozy, so yes. I don’t think you’ll be going back to work today, Zuko. I’m actually thinking of closing early, as well.” 

This information is enough to set Zuko’s anxiety on edge - after his slip up at work this morning he can’t really afford to fuck anything else up today, and not going back to work at all is a sure-fire way of doing that. He should've known better than to think something was actually going to go his way for once.

His mind continues to spiral, and the only thing that brings him back to the present is the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket. A deep sigh escapes him as he sees the number.

“I gotta take this,” he says, and Sokka nods in understanding before he walks out onto the boardwalk. 

They hadn’t even been out _that_ long, but Piandao was right. The snow is clearly starting to come down harder now, turning the boardwalk and the rocks on the bank a stark white in contrast to the river flowing down below. He realizes then that he definitely underestimated the weather forecast this time around, and that Izumi was right not to believe him this morning. He sighs and leans against the railing as he picks up the phone, even if he already suspects what the call is for.

★

Zuko hangs up, and somewhere behind him, he hears soft footsteps in the snow. A moment later, Sokka leans his elbows on the railing, too. “Everything okay?” 

Zuko sighs and rubs at his face. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do about work, and now I have to go pick up Izumi 'cause her school’s closing early, and we barely got any time to hang out and I dragged you out into this weather for nothing-”

“Hey,” Sokka says, nudging Zuko’s shoulder with his. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

At that - at this concept of _we_ \- Zuko meets his eyes. They’re so sure, that he has no choice but to believe him. “Okay.”

Sokka smiles. “Okay. Let’s make a plan. Lucky for you, I’m great at those.” Zuko nods, and he continues. 

“How soon do you need to get Izumi?”

“As soon as possible. I’d rather not get stuck in traffic with all the other parents rushing to get there.”

“Okay, so - step one: pick up Izumi. And what else did you need to do for work today?”

“I have more calls scheduled with clients, and a report due, and if I don’t turn it in on time my boss is gonna be pissed-”

“So, just get some work done at home.”

“It’s hard to do that with Izumi there,” Zuko confesses. “There’s just not enough time for all of it - I still need to take you back to the center so you can get your car, too.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Sokka says. “I’ll figure something out. I can’t just leave you hanging.”

Zuko shakes his head. “Sokka-”

“Let me hit you with this,” he says tentatively, raising a brow in question. “Let’s go pick up Izumi, and I can hang with her so you can get some work done at your place. Then I'll just call Suki to come pick me up after. Easy.”

“Why Suki?” There’s some small part of Zuko that suspects there might be more between her and Sokka. It’s something he’s been meaning to ask him, but now really isn’t the time. 

“Her jeep has 4-wheel drive, plus it wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to come rescue me,” he says with a smile. “So, what do you say?”

It sounds like a decent plan. And really, it’s the only one Zuko has right now. “I guess...alright. If you’re sure.”

Zuko forgets why he was even anxious in the first place when Sokka grins at him. 

★

Any other time, Zuko would be incredibly anxious at the situation he currently finds himself in. But it’s kind of hard to do anything but smile when Sokka’s reassuring him, and stealing the aux cord to blast pop music while they drive to pick up Izumi. 

Zuko can’t seem to understand why Sokka is so... _okay_ with all of this. He’s a little surprised that Sokka even wanted to meet up today, and still isn’t entirely convinced that this is anything special. It’s possible that Sokka is just like this all the time. Maybe he’s just the kind of person that can be friends with everyone he meets. 

But still, a stubborn part of him hopes there’s something different about this. Because not only did Sokka help Zuko sort out a plan, he also offered to watch his kid, for no other reason than it would help Zuko out. When he’d asked Sokka to get coffee earlier, he wasn’t expecting any of this - he just wanted to get to know him a little better. And it seems like he’s getting that wish, just maybe not in the way he expected. 

Izumi is, understandably, a little confused when she gets in the car and is greeted by Sokka, but then he asks her about her day and she’s nothing but smiles from there, recounting her day in detail as he listens with rapt interest. This surprises Zuko, too - not many people are willing to listen to 5 year olds babble on about god knows what, but Sokka looks genuinely interested in what she has to say. 

When Izumi soon complains of being hungry, Zuko says, “We’re almost home. You can get a snack when we get there.” 

Izumi’s eyes light up as she looks towards the passenger seat. “Mr. Sokka, are you coming to our house?!” 

The formal title pulls a laugh from him. “You can just call me Sokka, Izumi. But yeah, for a bit. Your dad has some work to do so I’m gonna hang out with you until he’s done. That okay with you?”

Zuko sees Izumi smile back and nod in the rear-view, and any remaining feelings of anxiety melt away. 

★

  
Zuko and Izumi leave their boots by the door, and Sokka follows suit. “Nice place,” he says, looking around curiously. 

Zuko smiles to himself as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it up. “Thanks, uh - make yourself at home. I’m gonna work in the kitchen...hopefully it won’t take too long. And Izumi-”

She’s already rounded the corner from the kitchen, snack in hand, her free hand grabbing onto Sokka’s. “Come on!” she says. “I wanna show you my turtle!”

“Oh - okay,” he responds with a laugh. “Lead the way.”

Sokka smiles at Zuko over his shoulder as Izumi leads him upstairs - and Zuko returns it with ease. It should be weird, having someone else in their house, but for whatever reason with Sokka...it’s just not. 

Zuko gets settled in the kitchen and gets to work, trying to ignore the desire to just close the laptop and go upstairs to see what they’re up to. He tries to work quickly, because he can see the snow coming down harder outside, and knows that Sokka can’t stay too long. So he presses on, and almost an hour later, it’s all finally done. He hits send and sighs with relief - he’d cut it close today, but it worked out, thanks to Sokka.

He heads upstairs, and finds Sokka and Izumi sitting at her art table coloring. He leans against the door frame, and smiles at the way Sokka’s seated in the tiny chair, hunched over the table with his tongue sticking out as he works. It's the same look he had on his face when they were in Toph's art studio, and Zuko wonders if he even realizes he’s doing it.

Izumi spots Zuko first. “Look, Daddy, Sokka taught me how to draw a dragon!” 

Zuko walks over and plants a kiss on the top of Izumi’s head as she holds up the picture for him to see. “Very nice, honey.”

He looks over at Sokka then, who shrugs and smiles - and Zuko really doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of seeing it. 

“Tell me something,” Sokka says, standing up from the table, groaning as he stretches from sitting in an awkward position for too long. “What’s up with the turtle?”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asks. 

“It’s name is Izumi.”

“What’s your point?”

“Well, doesn’t that get confusing?”

Izumi chimes in. “I already told you, it’s not!” 

Sokka looks to Zuko for some assistance, but Zuko can only laugh. He raises his hands in surrender. “I don’t know. I let her pick the name and that was the first one she came up with. It just kinda stuck.”

“We just call her Izzy for short,” Izumi says. “Plus, she’s just a turtle, silly. And I’m a kid. So we don’t get mixed up.”

Sokka laughs. “Hard to argue with that.” 

As much as he doesn’t want to put a damper in the fun, Zuko knows it’s probably time for Sokka to go, especially if he wants to beat the winter storm and get home safely. “Hey, did you get a chance to call Suki?”

Sokka scratches behind his ear. “Oh, um. Yeah, about that.”

“What?”

“I did call her, and usually she would be totally down to come get me, but apparently a lot of the roads have started to ice over.”

“Already?”

Sokka shrugs. “I mean I could ask her to still try, but it seems kinda risky, I don’t want to chance it. I don’t really know what to do.” 

Zuko wrestles with it for a minute - he can’t drive Sokka home in these conditions, especially with Izumi, and he also isn’t willing to risk the safety of any of Sokka’s friends or _maybe more than friends_ in this weather, either. And he can’t walk home, obviously. So. There’s really only one solution. 

“Well,” Zuko says. “Looks like you’re stuck with us for the night.”

Izumi spins around to look at them. “Like a real sleepover?!” 

Zuko can’t help but laugh at her - she’s so cute and innocent and he just never wants that to go away. “Not really, but kind of. Only if Sokka wants to.” He turns to him and shrugs. “You’re welcome to sleep on the couch if you want. It’s pretty comfortable, actually.” 

“Are you sure?” Sokka asks. “I don’t want to be in the way. I can call Suki back and see-” 

Zuko’s pretty sure that Sokka could never be an inconvenience, but he’s not ready to examine that thought any further right now. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s the least we can do after you helped us out today.”

Sokka looks at him thoughtfully and then nods after a moment of mulling it over. “Alright, sounds like a plan.”

★

From where Zuko stands, he can’t really see or hear anything besides distant cars and the snow hitting his coat as it falls in thick flakes. The park is relatively empty, save for the occasional passerby heading home. He hears giggling from somewhere behind him, but pretends that he didn't. A moment later, there’s a crunch of snow behind him, and Sokka shouts, “Now!” 

He turns quickly, but not quickly enough - and before he knows it, Izumi is pelting him with snowballs and laughing hysterically. He manages to catch the look on Sokka’s face - his grin is wide and victorious, and he sends a wink Zuko’s way before handing Izumi more snowballs.

Zuko raises his arms to block them from hitting his face, shouting dramatically, if only to make Izumi laugh even harder. He expects her to get a few hits in and be done with it, but then Sokka’s shouting “Go on, get him!” and the next thing he knows, Izumi is running straight at him full speed, and as he catches her, they both go tumbling into the snow. 

He can’t help the laugh that escapes his throat. “Not fair,” he says to her, jabbing her in the side to tickle her and elicit another laugh. Her smile is wide, shining brighter than the snow around them - and as he watches her, carefree and innocent - Zuko feels happier than he has in a long time. 

Izumi rolls off of him and starts the diligent work of rolling snow to make a snowman, and then Sokka is standing by his side, offering a hand to help him up. Zuko takes it, but when Sokka doesn’t make any effort to pull him up, Zuko meets his eyes. There’s a wild and mischievous glint in them - and then Zuko’s gaze drops to see the snowball curled in his other hand.

Zuko tries to give him a stern look, but comes up short, a smile peeking through anyway. “Don’t you dare-”

But he’s too late, and Sokka swiftly brings the snowball down on top of Zuko’s head, much to the delight of a nearby Izumi. Zuko scoffs a laugh, disbelieving. “Okay, that’s it,” he says, and hauls himself up, scooping a big handful of snow along the way before chasing after Sokka. 

Izumi is adamant about her desire to make a snowman, so eventually they call it a truce, and the three of them work on building one together. Zuko helps her roll the snow, and Sokka finds rocks and twigs for her to use. It’s a cute snowman - its limbs are a bit wonky and its smile crooked, but Izumi beams at him when it’s finished and begs him to take a picture anyway. Before he does, Zuko unwraps the scarf from around his neck and places it around the snowman as the finishing touch. Sokka stands to the side with him as he pulls out his phone and takes a few pictures of Izumi, standing next to it with a proud smile. He’s trying to get a good shot of it, but the wind begins to pick up a bit, making him shiver at the loss of his scarf to their icy friend. 

Sokka reaches over then, and pulls the hood of Zuko’s jacket over his head, blocking the wind. “Better?” he asks, amused at the way Zuko sighs in relief. 

“It wouldn’t be so bad if _someone_ hadn’t crushed a snowball over my head.”

Zuko looks at him then, and Sokka smiles. His cheeks are blushed but Zuko isn’t sure if it’s from the wind or not. 

(He hopes it’s not.)

“Look man,” Sokka says, “If you can’t stand the heat-”

“What, get out of the _snow_?”

Sokka laughs. “Yeah, something like that.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I dunno, it was the first thing that came to mind.”

Zuko shakes his head, and doesn’t even bother trying to force down his smile. “You’re an idiot.” 

Sokka pretends to be shocked, and shoves him playfully in the arm. “Hey! Watch it, or else you’re getting a snowball to the face next time.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Clearly Sokka’s not one to back down from a challenge, if the way he raises a brow and smiles back at Zuko is any indication. 

So Zuko starts running.

★

The night goes by pretty quickly after that. They make frozen pizzas, and play board games, and Izumi demands that they watch Tangled when Sokka says that he’s never seen it before. But it’s been a long day, and the movie isn’t even halfway over before her eyes start to drift closed from where she sits nestled into Zuko’s side on the couch. 

“Hey, Zumi,” he says, nudging her gently. “Time for bed, honey.”

Izumi groans. “Can I get a story first?”

Zuko smiles down at her. “Sure. Go get ready and I’ll be up in a minute.”

Izumi slides off the couch and heads upstairs. Sokka gives an amused look from the other end of the couch. “Story time, huh?”

“Yeah, she loves it,” Zuko says. “She always asks me to do funny voices for the characters.”

“Oh, I gotta see this.” Sokka’s grin stretches wide, and Zuko feels his face flushing red. 

“No, please-”

“Come on,” Sokka laughs. “You were the one who said you were a theater nerd. Let’s see what you got.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, smiling to himself. Of course the universe would stick him with two people who were impossible to say no to. 

Sokka sits on the floor next to Izumi’s bed, and watches Zuko read to her with rapt interest. Zuko feels a little awkward at first, but soon enough he gets into it - for Izumi’s sake, and if he falters at all, Sokka gives him a soft smile that encourages him to continue. By the end of it, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all. 

★

  
Sokka takes the opportunity to look around as Zuko fumbles in the hall closet for extra sheets and pillows for him to use. He goes quiet when he reaches the end of the hall, and Zuko knows exactly what he’s looking at. 

Tucked in a small alcove is a small table draped in red cloth, stitched together with golden thread in intricate designs. On it sits a wooden cabinet and a ceramic bowl, incense sticks sticking up out of the sand within. A vase of fresh flowers and candles are placed in front of it, and inside the cabinet are various items: a golden hair pin, a round wooden tile with a lotus engraved on the front, a silver medal. Most notably, there are photographs placed around the table, too - one of Zuko’s mother, her long black hair cascading around her shoulders. Across from it sits one of Lu Ten, dressed in a military uniform and standing proudly, his hands clasped behind his back in a respectful stance. And in the center of it all sits one of Iroh - with a smile stretching long across his face, and an even longer white beard underneath it. 

Sokka stands respectfully at a distance when Zuko walks up to him. He looks a bit unsure, but when Zuko gives him a small reassuring smile, he asks “Is that-?” 

Zuko sighs. “Yeah. That’s him.” He steps forward and picks up the photograph, looking at it only for a moment before setting it back down, and steps back to give Sokka a better look at the table.

“This is our version of a butsudan, I guess,” he says. “They’re usually more ornate than this, so it’s not much, but I thought it was important to have something like it to honor them. For me mostly, but Izumi, too. I want her to remember and respect where we came from.”

“That’s understandable,” Sokka says. “If you don’t mind me asking, who are the others?”

Zuko nods, and gestures to each one. “That’s my cousin Lu Ten - Iroh’s son. And that’s my mother. They both died when I was a kid.” 

Zuko watches Sokka as he processes this information, and he has a sudden worry that Sokka might ask about his father, but he never does. Instead, he sighs and smiles at the photo of Ursa. “She’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko says. “She was.”

Sokka turns to him. “I’m sure they would appreciate this.”

“I hope so,” Zuko says, and gives a sad smile. 

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the tile for? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Zuko picks it up and hands it to him. “It’s a Pai Sho piece.” 

Sokka gives him a look of confusion, and Zuko elaborates. “It’s an old strategy game, and my Uncle’s favorite. He was a master at it.”

Sokka turns the piece over in his hands to admire it, and then hands it back. “Maybe you can teach me sometime.” 

Zuko doesn’t have to force a smile when he answers. “How’s right now sound?”

★

It’s been awhile since he’s played, but Zuko pulls out the Pai Sho board from the closet and sets it up at the kitchen table. He does his best to explain the rules to Sokka, who listens intently. They get a couple rounds in and when Sokka finally gets the hang of it, they settle into a comfortable silence as they strategically move pieces around the board. 

Zuko’s enjoying himself, which isn’t something he can usually say when he plays this game. But Sokka’s doing that thing again when he sticks his tongue out, his glasses perched on his nose and his brows furrowed in concentration, and Zuko can’t stop _looking_ at him. But he’s not slick, never has been, and Sokka catches him. 

“What?” he says, smile spreading wide.

Zuko shakes his head, snapping himself out of it. “Nothing. It’s just...you were doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

Zuko shuffles in his seat, and tries to find the words to explain without making himself look crazy. “You make this face, when you’re concentrating on something. It’s -”

He stops himself from saying _cute_ , and goes with, “distracting.”

Sokka laughs, and moves another piece on the board. “Distracting? How so.”

Zuko makes a point not to look at him and takes his next turn, because if he does, he can't trust himself not to say anything else stupid and back himself into a corner any more than he already has. "I'm just making excuses," he says. "I've never been good at this game."

If he's referring to the board game, or whatever else this is between them, he doesn't elaborate. 

"Clearly," Sokka teases, giving a smug smile as he moves his final piece into place. "Looks like I just won."

“Best 2 out of 3?” Zuko asks.

They play a couple more games and when Zuko gets tired of losing so frequently, they decide to take a break and watch TV instead. Spending time with someone after Izumi goes to sleep is yet another thing he’s not used to, other than with Azula. So he lets himself just enjoy Sokka’s company, laughing and bickering over what to watch. It’s nice, but after awhile he starts to feel himself drifting into sleep, and decides to head upstairs. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he says. 

“What, no bedtime story?” Sokka teases.

Zuko smiles to himself and shakes his head, and starts making his way up the stairs. “Shut up.”

“Oh come on,” Sokka whines. “Pleaseeee?”

“ _Goodnight_ , Sokka.”

★

As usual, Zuko wakes in the middle of the night, and when it becomes clear that he won’t be falling back asleep, he gets up to make himself some tea. 

He’d almost forgotten that Sokka was even there, but then he sees him lying on the couch, and Zuko tries to move quieter. But of course, nothing is ever easy for Zuko, so he manages to drop a cup into the sink, the sound of it loud enough that he sees Sokka stir on the couch.

“Zuko?” 

“Sorry,” he winces. “Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sokka slowly gets up from the couch, squinting as he steps into the kitchen. Zuko has to turn back to focus on what he’s doing because frankly, Sokka just looks too adorable like this - all soft smiles and hair tousled from sleep.

“Want some help?” he says. 

Zuko’s preoccupied with finding a tea to make, so he says, “Sure, um. Can you grab a teapot out of that cabinet over there?” 

And maybe it’s his lack of sleep, or maybe it’s the fact that grief doesn’t care how well he’s doing, but when he sees Sokka holding Iroh’s red cast iron teapot, something snaps. 

“What are you doing?!” he hisses, grabbing it out of Sokka’s hands. Sokka’s eyes go wide in shock and confusion, and he raises his hands to try to ease him, to let him know he means no harm.

“I’m sorry...you asked me to get one, so I did-”

Zuko’s breathing is erratic as he sets the teapot down and unpredictable emotions well up inside him like a storm. He feels flushed, confused, _angry_ \- and he has no idea why.

“Zuko?” Sokka asks, voice quiet and concerned.

When Zuko finally tears his eyes away from the teapot and looks at Sokka, he realizes what he’s done. “Fuck,” he says, and lowers his head, leaning on the counter for support. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m-”

_An idiot. A mess. Just add it to the list, honestly._

“I’m so sorry,” he sighs. “I don’t know why this one was in there, Izumi must have been playing with them. It was my Uncle’s. I don’t know why I got so upset. Sokka, I’m really sorry-”

Sokka lays a hand gentle on his arm, and it’s enough to make Zuko stop spiraling. “Hey, it’s okay, Zuko. I understand.” 

Zuko’s eyes fall to his hand, and then back up again. “You do?”

Sokka’s smile is soft. “Yeah, really - it’s okay. Grief is weird like that sometimes. No hard feelings.”

Zuko lets out a sigh of relief and nods. “Thanks.” 

Sokka squeezes his arm to wordlessly say _no problem_ , and then asks, “Now, which tea are we having?”

Zuko’s not sure how Sokka does this so easily - calming the storms in him and making him feel like everything really is going to be okay. At that moment he feels more grateful than ever that he met him in the first place, and shudders to think of what the last couple of months would’ve been like if he hadn’t taken Iroh’s advice to seek help.

Zuko prepares the tea and pours some for them both, and settles across the table from Sokka. They sit for a minute in easy silence until Sokka asks, “Does this happen a lot? You not sleeping, I mean.”

Zuko really doesn’t have the energy to explain, so he just nods. 

Sokka hums in response. “I’m sorry. That must be hard, with Izumi, too.”

“It can be,” Zuko sighs. 

Sokka’s pondering something, his thumb tracing the rim of his teacup. “Was it...hard? Raising her by yourself?”

Zuko thinks about it for a moment. “It was really fucking hard,” he confesses. “But I wasn’t completely alone. I had my Uncle. And Azula.”

“Izumi’s lucky to have you.”

Zuko’s touched by that, but also knows it’s not a one-sided thing. “I think it’s the other way around,” he says. “But thank you.”

It’s then that Zuko sees an opening. “What about you?” he asks. “I mean, do you ever see yourself having kids?”

Sokka smiles, warm enough to melt the snow outside.

“Yeah, I hope so.” 

★

They’re almost done with their tea, when Sokka’s eyes fall on something behind Zuko. He turns to see Izumi standing at the bottom of the stairs, her stuffed bison clutched in a white knuckled grip, and her eyes shining with tears. 

Zuko’s at her side in an instant, and Izumi throws her arms around his neck. “Hey, hey - it’s okay,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong?”

Izumi sniffles at his shoulder. “I woke up and went to f-find you, but you weren’t in your room and I g-got scared.” 

“Oh, honey. It’s okay, I’m sorry.” 

Izumi nods and holds on to him tighter, and Zuko lays a hand on her head to press her in closer. “You’re not alone, okay? I’m right here. And Sokka’s here too, see?”

He sits back and gestures over to where Sokka sits at the table. Sokka waves at her, and she does it right back, seeming more at ease now. Zuko smiles sympathetically at her, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll help you get back to sleep, okay? You can sleep in my bed, if you want.” 

Izumi wraps herself around him as he lifts her up, and he turns back towards Sokka. “Wait, we need to clean up-”

“Just go, I got it,” Sokka says, his voice gentle and reassuring. 

Once again, Zuko’s taken aback by Sokka’s thoughtfulness, but in the moment, all he can do is nod gratefully and hope it’s enough, for now. 

Once upstairs, Izumi snuggles into bed next to him. She doesn’t fall asleep immediately, fidgeting with the stuffed animal laying between them.

“Did you have fun today?” Zuko asks. 

“Mhm,” she mumbles. “Your friend is silly. I like him.”

Zuko smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -  
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> First, I wanna say thank you to my friend Jason who gave me some information about Japanese funeral practices, specifically the period afterwards. I didn't want to write about the extensive practices since I'm not experienced in them, but I also didn't want to overlook the cultural influences of the show. So I thought it was important to incorporate into Zuko's grieving process in some way. It's impossible to separate Iroh from his spirituality, so there's no doubt in my mind that he taught Zuko a few things about honoring the dead and all that comes with it from a cultural point of view. I don't think of Zuko as particularly interested in religion in this au, but his love for Iroh and his family makes him want to keep up some of those traditions. From what I understand, Iroh's spirituality in the show is pretty heavily influenced by Buddhism, so Zuko's butsudan is based on some of those practices and also some done by my friend who was kind enough to share some of his own with me. 
> 
> As for everything else....I'd like to take this moment to remind you lovely readers that this fic is tagged slow burn....and friends to lovers...so they have to actually...be friends first lol. But it won't be toooo long of a wait before they get together, and it'll be worth it. I promise :) 
> 
> Also, my modern au Sokka is a pop music and Ariana Grande stan, because he has TASTE and because I say so. I am not immune to a good bop, and neither is he
> 
> Lots more fluffy and tender moments up ahead, so stick around :) 
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ marriedzukka! I've been posting memes there for every chapter of this so far so if you want to see those, come find me there!


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